The Rat
by OrangeReservoir
Summary: What would have happened in the movie if the Police had never arrived, and Mr. Orange never told Mr. White that he was the rat. This is my take on the story that would have followed the Reservoir Dogs ending scene. (Warning: some foul Language)
1. Chapter 1

**Ok, so this fanfiction is in a completely new area for me, but Reservoir Dogs is one of my favorite movies and I feel it is worth giving it a shot. If I am not doing the characters or the movie any justice, just let me know, because I already have a feeling this is going to fail miserably.**

**To get to the point, this fic is based after the warehouse standoff between Joe, Nice guy Eddie and Mr. White, with the change that the police never catch them. Mr. Orange doesn't tell Mr. White that he is a cop, and instead he lets him believe that he was never the rat.**

**Note: I do not own any of the characters.**

* * *

"He was the only one I wasn't a hundred percent on. I should have my fucking head examined going in when I wasn't a hundred percent sure!"

The situation that he had dreaded stepping into this job had finally come true as he watched the three guns drawn and aimed at their intended targets. The weapon directed at him was held by none other than Joe, the leader of the operation, the man he was supposed to be 'bringing down'. Conversation was no longer just 'tense', it had escalated into a standoff that Freddy knew too well in his mind was going to end with one, or all of them dead. He should speak up now, he should save three lives and admit who he really was… he was going to die anyway, but he couldn't voice a thing. Cold sensations that covered his body, that caused his eyes to lose sight and his ears to ring were stopping him from making any noise, all he could do was watch the inaudible blurred argument as it continued above him.

_What is he doing? Why?_

There was such conviction in Mr. White's voice earlier, that held a high regard for this 'Mr. Orange', and it made him cringe to think that this man was turning against one of his oldest associates to defend the rat. Why would he do that? He didn't really know he was defending the rat, he thought he was saving the life of a new friend that was helpless against a swarm of false accusations. White was not going to back down, his gun still firmly aimed at Joe.

"Joe, you shoot that man you die next. You shoot that man, you die next"

"Larry! It's been a long time, a lot of jobs. We've been through a lot of shit, you respect my father, I respect you, but I will put bullets in your heart if you don't put that fucking gun down now!"

White seemed to ignore Eddie's threat that was more like a plea for his father's life, focusing on Joe who now stood with his eyes fixed on Mr. Orange's stained and bleeding form. His hand tightened around the gun, finger pulling the trigger slightly closer to releasing all of the anger and hatred he felt.

"Goddamn you Joe, don't make me do this"

"LARRY YOU STOP POINTING THAT FUCKING GUN AT MY DAD!"

The panic in Nice Guys Eddie's voice was drowned out by the deafening sound of gunfire , and Orange's body was thrown into the concrete that was already covered with his own blood, a second wound now in his chest. He closed his eyes hard and waited for the pain to set in as it had before but he felt nothing. There was only the sound of a scuffling pair of feet. _Had someone survived? _Mr. Pink, of course, the coward would have backed away from the fight. He opened his eyes, but was only rewarded with blurred vision of the skinny bastard that called himself a 'professional' fleeing. Another figure was moving towards him now, crawling across the bloodied ground to reach him with the last of his energy.

"Lar- Larry"

Freddy reached out a hand in search for comfort. His chest was in agony now, and with every breath he took the feeling of a building, foaming liquid in his lungs was enough to shatter all hope in his mind that he was going to survive. His entire body was faltering; he could feel the struggling motion of his upper torso causing his arms to twist inwards towards the source of pain, the heels of his leather shoes scraping along the concrete as he gasped for air and tried to make out words to his fellow man. He opened his mouth in attempt but could do nothing but choke on the blood that had pooled in his throat.

"Shh, don't talk"

The blunt words from Mr. White, to whom he had come to know as Larry calmed some of the anxiety he felt. A hand gripped his upper arm and shifted him to the side with as much care as it could muster, before pulling him upwards, into his colleagues lap. White's hand quivered in shock as he ran it across the side of Freddy's face in an attempt to soothe and quiet him, he had also been shot in the standoff, by none other than 'Nice Guy' Eddie, but seemed more concerned about his dying companion.

"Hey, shh, shh you're going to be alright"

* * *

He felt the younger man's jaw clench before he exhaled sharply through his teeth. Orange was dying, he could tell from prior experience that he had lost too much blood to survive. _Why didn't you just take him to a doctor when he begged earlier? He got shot because of you, he is a good kid._ The guilt plagued his mind, why did he care? He didn't know, but this man was different to others he had come across. He didn't hide his fear like most that White had met in earlier jobs; and the others that he had seen die had never suffered for as long as Orange had. _Why are you still calling him Orange?_

"What's your name kid? Breathe and tell me your name"

He choked again, trying to make words with what strength and life he had left. White ran his hands over the man's face again in an attempt to relax him enough so that he could speak, but the body he held in his lap could only writhe and let distressed huffs of air escape his lips. Orange's grip tightened on his suit sleeves as his legs began to kick outwards in pain…he was suffering. _You have to do something…take him somewhere._

He scoured his surrounds for answers before directing his attention to the door. If he could lift him out to Joe's car he might have time still to get him to help. He applied pressure to his own wound before pushing himself off the ground, and stumbling to where the man who planned the robbery, that at the time seemed well thought through, lay dead beside his son. He kneeled and searched for keys, scouring all of the pockets until his finger finally caught a key ring. He had a car, now he just needed a way to get Orange outside.

The sudden and unexpected sound of hurried footsteps echoed throughout the empty warehouse and made Mr. White turn and draw his gun. Mr. Pink jumped slightly in surprise before scoffing at the sight in front of him.

"I thought you were a goner for sure"

There was a tone to his voice that didn't seem the slightest bit worried about the fact that two of the men he worked with were dying. And his impression of the man, right from the start had been that he was a snide, gutless prick.

"Eddie's car won't start, just my fucking luck could the day get any better"

The nervousness in Pink's voice increased when after looking in Joe's pockets, he found they were empty. The cop's would have to arrive soon if a rat had really set them up, and he knew that being caught was the worst possible scenario that the man in front of him could think of. He could use this to his advantage.

"The cop's will be here soon Mr. Pink. We are all going away for a long time…unless"

His body language changed instantly as soon as he figured out that White had the keys to his escape.

"You lift Orange out to Joe's car, I'll give you the keys if you swear you'll take the both of us to help"

Pink looked as though he was about argue or pull his weapon, when the sound of distant sirens could be heard approaching. Larry held his gun at the weedy figure that now panicked about the approaching wave of police, surely thinking over the proposal and making his decision. He ran towards Mr. Orange and with much difficulty, lifted him and began to drag him backwards towards the door. White kept his handgun held firmly in place, as he stood and tried his best to keep up.

By the time he reached the door Mr. Pink had already succeeded in lifting Orange into the back of Joe's car. White pulled himself onto the seat beside the man, whose name he still yet wanted to find out and cradled his head once more, before closing the door behind him. A wave of relief ran over him when the car came to life and pulled away from its parked position, Pink speaking up as they escaped the sound of sirens successfully.

"I know a doctor that lives about twenty minutes from here. He will help you without alerting the cop's, but know that I ain't sticking around Mr. White, I'm putting as much distance as I can between me and this place"

White stared into the rearview mirror to meet Pink's eyes, who still seemed tense about their narrow escape. He didn't know whether to trust him or not, for all he knew the weedy fucker was the rat. Below him though, he could feel the gasping breaths of Orange. He needed to trust Mr. Pink, he wasn't going to let this young man die, not now.

"Just hurry up, I don't give a fuck where it is you take us so long as they can fix this mess up".


	2. Chapter 2

"What the fuck are you doing, get outta the car and go knock on the front door like a normal person!"

"Hey Mr. White how about you get out of the car and go and fucking knock yourself. I'm trying to help you here, do you want my help or not…we shouldn't be acting like this. We're fucking professionals"

Pink honked the horn another three times and waited for the door of 47 Corcoran St to open. They had been sitting in the car for five minutes and Mr. White was sick of the childish nonsense.

"I will go and fucking knock myself, and if I hear you say that we are professionals again I swear to god I will make you worse off than him"

In saying this he pointed at Orange, who had now passed out in the backseat that was now covered in both of their blood. He pressed against his stomach feeling a painful discomfort that was the bullet wound he received less than an hour ago. It was ridiculous, Mr. Pink, who had not yet revealed his true name, sat in the car and watched him stumble, blood covered to the front door of a stranger's house. He mumbled under his breath as he knocked and waited for the owner to answer.

As the door opened it revealed a small thin boy that looked no older than 20. _Well done Mr. Pink, well done._ White felt himself sigh in disbelief and annoyance at the figure that stood in front of him, how in god's name was he going to be of any help?

"You a friend of Mr. Pink?"

The young man's face just scrunched up, until finally he shrugged his shoulders. "Who is Mr. Pink?"

"He is that Asshole out there in the front seat of the car"

He pointed to were Pink was sitting, tapping his watch and making hand gestures that he was sure nobody else understood.

"Him? Yeah I know him…I helped him out a little while ago. What does he want?"

"My friend and I are both injured. He said you would be able to help us without barking to the cops"

He stood and thought about it for a minute, stepping backwards inside a little.

"What's in it for me?"

"I'll pay you" the response was quick and well taken. The boy in the door didn't have to think too hard about his decision.

"Ok, you get this 'Mr. Pink' to bring him inside…you going to need a bed for you friend?"

"Most definitely, what's your name?"

"Paul"

"Good to meet you Paul, I'm Larry"

They both shook hands in the doorway, releasing only when they heard angered yelling from the car half parked on the front lawn of the unkempt house.

"Hey ladies! We done with introductions, come on hurry the fuck up I don't have all day!"

* * *

He could feel himself being dragged backwards, the heel of his shoe catching on the cracks in the pavement. He couldn't feel his arms completely, and the winded breaths he took shot waves of pain through his body that surged right to his toes. The man pulling him backwards was struggling to do so, but he found it too hard to open his eyes. Had the police finally come? Was he being rescued at last? He felt a rising hope that he was on his way to survival, a hospital, a doctor. But if he was being loaded into an ambulance by paramedics, why not on a stretcher?

He pulled his numb arm closer to his chest and grasped the hand that was pulling him backwards. The man that was dragging him along was wearing a suit; he could feel it in the fabric. The small amount of faith that he still held wanted it to be Mr. White.

"Lar-" He exhaled sharply, the pain escalating as he tried to spit out that one word.

"Mr. White? Please…he's probably inside having tea and fucking biscuits, while I'm doing his work for him. I didn't sign up for this shit"

_Pink? No it can't be, he left with the diamonds. _Freddy tried to open his eyes, confronted by the sunlight that dotted his vision. His sight cleared slightly, but was still blurred…it was Mr. Pink, it had to be, even with the unclear picture that his body provided he could make out the weedy man's distinctive facial hair. Why was Pink with him? Where was Larry? Did he come back to finish them both off just in case? He became panicked with the questions he provided himself and began to twist his body with what energy he had left in an attempted escape.

"What are you doing? I'm going to fucking drop you if you don't stop wriggling and White will kill me, so just hold fucking still alright Mr. Hero"

He gave up trying to fight, not because he believed him, but because he couldn't bare the pain of making more movement, Mr. Pink was the last person he was expecting to find helping him. Freddy heard a creaking sound, a door perhaps, swinging open. The light changed from the bright sun outside, to a cooler, more shaded orange glow; he was indoors.

The grip on his arms loosened as he was laid on the floor. He tried to look around but his eyes weren't adjusting as they should have leaving him with only sound to rely on. He closed his eyes and ran his hand over the timber wood, tracing he grain with his fingers.

"Mr. White, honestly give up, look at him, he's a mess. I don't think that he is coming back from that, Joe got him good that second time around"

"Mr. Pink, I appreciate you helping us out, I really do. But I would appreciate it more if you just left now, take your diamonds, and your negative opinions, and just hit the road before the cop's catch up with you"

Mr. White's voice was full of annoyance, but the thanks also lingered in his tone.

"Well then, Larry, it was nice knowing you. And kid, if you get through take care, you weren't half bad"

Mr. Pink tapped his shoulder slightly before the sound of the screen door opening was heard again. Silence followed for a few moments afterwards, until he felt the hand of who he guessed was Larry brush his hair from his forehead.

"Come on Orange, stay awake, you're going to be alright"


	3. Chapter 3

**Before I get this chapter started I just want to say a big Thank You to VirendraLione for the positive feedback that I was given for this fic. I really appreciate the encouragement!**

* * *

"_Larry, Larry please!"_

The muffled cries that sounded from down the hall where Orange had been taken, by this 'friend' of Mr. Pink, had been continuous for twenty minutes. He was trying to hold himself together, but the pool of blood that had formed around where he sat was slowly increasing. He hadn't moved; he couldn't move. The pained cries grew louder as a door was flung open, followed by the heavy sound of rapid footsteps.

"You're Larry aren't you, come on man he needs you, he is freaking out down there"

The voice was full of anxiety, a sincere worry strewn across the young man's face. He stood over the top of him for a moment before kneeling beside Larry and placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey man, are you alright? ...Larry, are you awake?"

He couldn't make out whole words, instead letting out a small grunt in reply. The young man, whose name had escaped him already, wrapped an arm underneath his own and tried to lift him.

"Come on, bend your knees and try lift, I can't hold you up on my own"

He listened and pulled his legs up under himself, before he was re-adjusted in the hands of the boy offering him help. There was no pain when he moved, when he drew breath. He felt nothing but a hollow feeling in his lungs and stomach, like a churning that wouldn't cease.

"_Mr. White! Please Larry!"_

He lifted his head in response to the call of his name, not noticing he was nearing the opened door in which the noise was ringing from. _Ringing? _Yes ringing. A high pitch sound that echoed in his ears so loud he wanted to close his eyes and die right then and there. He was sure he was going too eventually, and now he finally understood what Mr. Orange had meant earlier in the car. The blood was scaring the shit out of him too right now, it covered his hands, his arms and he was almost positive that it had drenched every inch of his suit.

"Here, look, you sit right here Mr. White ok, right there next to your buddy while I try fix him up. I gotta clean him up first ok, then I'll help you out as well just stay with me"

He could feel himself being lowered down into a chair, not a solid chair, it was more flimsy. He took a better look seeing that this 'chair' was more of a stretcher, situated beside the bed in which Orange was laid out in a contorted manner. He lay down; taking full advantage of the space he was provided with, grasping his dying friend's hand that hung blood-covered over the side of the mattress above him.

* * *

The light didn't want to change for him, remaining red. All of the other cars around him seemed to move but he found himself stuck firmly in place. Was leaving the right thing to do? White and Orange had both taken a bullet for the diamonds that he was now escaping with.

_No, no, don't get guilty now, it was their fault they got shot, they should have watched their own backs._

What are you going to do with diamonds? Sell them? Where? He had no idea what he was going to do, even if he did skip town, word that stones of that price had been stolen would have spread across the country by now. Leaving is what the cops would be expecting you to do; they probably have every main exit out of the city blocked.

_Shit._

He turned around and looked at the bag in the back seat that contained the robbery's loot. The blood smeared over the leather made him cringe. Mr. Orange and Mr. White were dying because of the trouble of the contents of that bag, and he was running with it. They deserved a share, he probably wouldn't have gotten out alive without the distraction of the others.

_No, fuck you, you're going soft. You got the diamonds; therefore they belong to you and you only._

He turned and looked at the road ahead, and as the light changed to green he found that his decision was still not firmly made, what if he did get caught, he would go away for a long time. Maybe he would be better laying low. He sat at the light and watched it change back to orange, then red.

_Orange. The poor kid, first ever real robbery and it goes that badly._

The person situated behind him sounded as though they were banging on their car horn over and over in a fit of rage. He looked into his rearview mirror at the gestures he was receiving from the man_, I doubt he would be doing that to me if he knew I tagged two cops earlier…._ He reached for his gun, tempted to give this asshole the fright of his life, before coming to his senses. _Patience_, why couldn't the guy behind have a little patience, surely he wasn't in that big of a hurry. Missing one green light is not the end of the world.

That's when it dawned on him. Was he in a hurry? He could have just ditched the car and stayed at the house with his two injured chums, nobody would find him there. The light turned green once again, and instead of heading straight, Pink found himself turning the car back the way he came, cursing his own judgment.

_Now you have to share the dough with the other two, you could have been fucking rich, well done genius._

* * *

**Sorry about how short this chapter is, I will be sure to post another in the next couple of days to make up for my lousy word count. If you have time, please review, I would love the feedback!**


	4. Chapter 4

**I am so sorry!, my computer died because my pet rabbit chewed the charger cord and I had to go out and buy a new laptop. Anyways I am sorry again for the delay, I hope you enjoy the chapter, and please if you have any issues just PM me. Review if you have time!**

* * *

He pulled the car to a stop and reached for the satchel containing the diamonds, making a noise similar to that in which a teenager who didn't get their own way would make, before climbing out of the seat. Ditching the vehicle was part of the plan, now all he had to do was walk the eleven blocks back to Paul's house. His footsteps echoed as he strode down the narrow lane towards the main road, and already he was regretting parking this far away due to the discomfort his shoes were causing.

_How did the whole plan get that out of hand, something so perfectly organised?_

He contemplated the events that had occurred earlier in the day and was stumped. There was no way that Mr. Blonde was the rat, as he had said to Larry, the psycho was too homicidal. Mr White? No way, he and Joe went back too far in the business together, there is no way he sold him out. Brown, Blue? Possibly, but who really knows, can't ask them now they're both dead. Then there was Joe and Eddie, he didn't want to believe they would ever set up their own men, but the way that the pinned the blame on Mr. Orange.

_Gut instinct? Nah, I don't buy it._

Orange seemed like a good kid, he took a bullet, he was dying. If he were the cop would he have waited to be found? Hell no, he would have called his people to come and get him for sure. No sane person is going to sit back for that long and let themselves die.

He had no idea, no rational explanation for what happened, but whatever had happened, he believed that the two men he was returning to had nothing to do with it.

* * *

How was he going to explain? How was he going to tell Larry that he was a cop? He lay there in silence while a young man unknown to him wrapped his wounds, brooding over the questions he presented himself.

"How'd you get shot?"

The unexpected question offered him with the vision of the woman in the car. Immediately he felt a pang of guilt strike him, _she had a baby. _He didn't want to have to hurt anyone but as soon as he felt the impact from her gun he had to pull his own, it was instinct.

"I got shot trying to hijack a car, our day didn't really go as planned"

"I can tell, what's your name?"

He almost said Freddy before stopping himself.

"My name is Mr. Orange"

"Mr. Orange, Mr. White and Mr. Pink huh? What are they like code names?"

"We weren't supposed to reveal our real names"

"I can respect that" He reached out a hand to shake "My name's Paul, but you can call me Mr. Purple"

He snorted at the joke. "Mr. Pink wanted to be Mr. Purple, don't tell him he might get bitter"

They both chuckled, and a third voice joined in. He didn't know how long Larry had been awake, but was glad to hear him share laughter.

"Did you tell Paul why he was called Mr. Pink?"

Freddy leaned over the side of the bed and saw Mr. White's eyes were still closed, but a large grin covered his face.

"Don't think about uttering another fucking word. I just walked eleven blocks for you assholes, I got blisters and everything, ok. Not to mention the fact I was carrying a bag of fucking stolen diamonds down a busy street."

They all turned to face him shocked.

"Mr. Pink?!"

"Don't 'Mr. Pink' me you little prick"

Every single person in the room fell silent for a moment. _Why the hell would Mr. Pink come back?_

"Why did you come back, weren't you trying to get out of town?"

Mr. Whites question caused Mr. Pink to raise his eyebrows. "I was, but the place is crawling with cops, I don't think I would have ever made it out of the city, I reckon they would have had the entire thing blocked off"

"Oh yeah, or was the real answer that you got guilty?"

"You wish, I'm just looking out for myself here ok, you two…" He gestured towards both of the men that had been injured "don't mean shit to me. But since I came back I figured you both might as well get your share of the loot."

Freddy felt gratified, Mr. Pink had a soft spot that he was sure never existed, and from where he was seated he could tell that Mr. White was thinking the exact same thing.

"Well Mr. Pink, whatever your reasons are for coming back, I must say I'm happy to see you"

"Yeah yeah, cut the crap both of you and go to fucking sleep. You look horrible."

With that he left the room and walked down the hallway to the kitchen. Mr. White just huffed and laid back down on his bed, it was a strange moment…Pink came back. _Was it really guilt, like Larry had said? _He followed Larry's actions and made himself comfortable also, he knew that he looked terrible, he had to. He felt completely hollow still, as he had earlier when he was nearly drained of life in the warehouse.

_The warehouse._

For a moment he had pushed that thought to the back of his mind, but it was slowly creeping back. He would eventually have to tell Mr. White and Mr Pink who he really was, but how, how could he do that to them? They trusted him now, and he almost felt a brotherly connection with them both. It was silly to even think that, but the more he thought about it, the weeks leading up to the robbery had made him feel that there were people who cared about him. Mr. White had watched over him, so much that he took the life of an old friend in attempt to keep him safe; and Mr. Pink…well he had just returned with diamonds that could have made him rich, so that he could split the money between the three of them.

He hadn't felt that good, that well in a long time. He turned the ring on his finger as he closed his eyes, maybe he didn't have to tell them at all?


	5. Chapter 5

He sat and stared at the 60's style television in front of him, the black and white picture jumping every few minutes due to the lack of quality. It was all over the news, the diamonds were a big deal. So were the surviving culprits that had fled from the rendezvous point. His cereal had gone bad in the time he had been watching the news programs on various channels, each and every one showing the same story.

_It had to be a set-up, everything about its fishy._

The footage of the aftermath showed the destruction that they had caused on the interior of the building. Mr. Blonde really was a psychopath. Blood was pattered all over the glass at the front of the diamond wholesalers, and even though the picture quality wasn't great, Pink could make out the unmistakeable pools of red in the carpet. He didn't really want to think about it, Joe should have never put a moron that trigger happy on the job. They were all capable of working together, but Blonde…he was just fucking insane. It was then that a female officer stood poised on the screen in front of him, her eyebrows furrowed. She spoke with such surety about the way that their plan was executed, where they fled, how many of them there was…

"_We have been led to believe that there are three perpetrators still on the run, sketches taken from witnesses at the scene of the crime show two unidentifiable men, one aged between thirty and forty and the other in his late twenties. A prior offender known as Lawrence Dimmick is also believed to be a part of this shocking crime that left nine people dead and four injured…."_

_Larry_

He felt his heart stop, they were going to be found for sure. With every breath his chest became tighter, there was no way to escape it this time, the police…everyone was on high alert. The cereal slipped from his hands, the glass bowl smashing on the timber surface.

_You have to get out of here now, you haven't told them you're name yet. The cops wouldn't be able to identify you with just a drawing… But how? How did they know who Larry was, how did they get his name? Shit none of this makes any sense. _

"_If you have any information on the whereabouts of these three men a reward will be issued to anyone with evidence that could lead to their incarceration…"_

_Fuck_

"Larry!... Larry!"

* * *

The distant shouting woke him from where he had fallen asleep earlier. The chairs cane build leaving imprinted patterns in his skin. _What do you want now?_

For the past three days since their arrival at Paul Torisi's house, Mr. Pink had been battering him with information that the cops had released in relation to the heist. Important details that they 'apparently' would not have been able to find without aid; still hell-bent on the idea that there was a rat amongst them from the very beginning.

"Holy fuck White, it's really bad, they have pictures of you broadcasted all over the fucking television"

Pink was breathless, a look of fright and horror on his face that Larry had not yet seen; fright that had not surfaced when the robbery went wrong, not even when they heard sirens from inside the warehouse and made their narrow escape.

"Mr. Pink, breathe. Start from the beginning"

"They have fucking photographs of you on the national news, along with your name, previous offences all of it! We are getting caught for sure this time Larry, we can't make an escape when every second person on the street knows who you are!"

What did he mean, _his name?_ His…actual name? No, there is no possible way that they had his real name. The look in Pink's eyes said otherwise however and left him sitting speechless.

"How did they get my name?"

"I don't fucking know how they got your name, but your picture is accompanied by very realistic sketches of both Orange and I, and I feel really fucking uneasy about the whole situation!"

Beside him Mr. Orange stirred when the angered Mr. Pink raised his voice. The boy had a rough few days; on and off fevers, severe pain, all accompanied by nausea. He didn't want his sleep to be disrupted, he needed it. There was a sense of déjà vu as he ushered the scrawny man away from where the Orange slept into the hall outside.

"Hey, you… get out there"

The words were blunt, but it was all he could manage as he tried his best to lift himself from the low-set chair. He was soon standing, but not without a grunt of discomfort. _Small steps…_He concentrated on his every movement, leaning against the wall hoping that it would take most, or some of his weight.

Mr. Pink seemed panicky about the circumstances, pacing back and forwards as Larry entered the passage.

"What are we going to do Larry? What is going to happen if they find us, we might get pinned with the murders, and the dead cop…you will go away for Joe and Eddie. Orange, you said that he shot a civilian. Don't forget he killed Blonde, we are all screwed!"

"Hey, its fine, we'll take off away from here and travel across state. I know somebody who could get us what we need to get out ok, don't worry Mr. Pink"

"Worry? Worry? I don't think the word worry could even be used in this situation! I am not worried I am fucking freaking out here!"

His hands trembled wildly as he said this and his knees looked ready to buckle.

"You need to sit down"

He looked Larry in the eyes before pressing his back against the wall and making himself seated on the hallway floor, placing his face in his hands, before running them through his hair. He could see that he was struggling with the situation, the idea of being caught and locked up.

"Look Mr. Pink, it won't be permanent, we all just need to lay low for a few months or so ok. The authorities will forget about the whole ordeal soon enough, and for you and Orange, it was just sketches they can't prove anything from that"

His words seemed to reassure the crumpled figure who now stared blankly ahead at the empty wall.

"What will happen to you Mr. White? Where will you go, how are you going to get away from this?"

"The truth is that I have done it before, all you got to do is stay below their radar. No reckless driving or endangerment of lives and they won't even notice you there"

Mr. Pink still seemed conflicted about the whole thing, but less anxious. He had most likely never been in a job that had gone wrong, everyone is scared when they're job goes wrong for the first time.

"Pink, right now we need to stick together and stay where we are. When we are all fit to leave we will get out of here and find a safer place to hide out until it blows over"

The man who had kept his barrier up at all times finally let out a sigh. He seemed lost, who knows what life he had to return to, a wife? Kids? Maybe it wasn't as simple for him to leave. The conversation topic suddenly changed as Mr. Pink peered around the doorframe and into the room where Orange was situated on the bed.

"How is Orange doing today, is he better?"

Seeing concern from him was something Larry never thought would happen, but the way that he spoke revealed a tone of voice that held a large amount of care.

"He hasn't woken up since yesterday morning, and even that was brief. But it seems that with some rest it will be fine, he's not going to die on us, but he's in an incredible amount of pain still"

A grimace came over Pink's face as he began to rise from the floor.

"Listen, you look really tired Larry. I think it would be best if I didn't worry myself by the shitty old television. I'll sit with Orange, you rest for a little while, you can take my room"

His instinct was to decline the offer, but he had been deprived of sleep since they arrived.

"You know what Mr. Pink, I will take you up on that, and you will wake me if he stirs, because if you don't I will be really fucking pissed"

With that the thin man chuckled slightly before stepping into the room.

"You know Larry, even though this job turned into a fucking catastrophe, I'm glad I got out of it with a couple of new friends"


	6. Chapter 6

"_Orange you _know that we can't do that, look at you, you don't need the hospital you're perfectly fine"

He had been awake for two hours, and in that time his temperature had spiked, the dull pounding in his head now a drilling pain. He wanted a hospital, there was no safety here in the dark room, and the unfamiliar surroundings didn't reassure him at all_. Where's Larry?_

"Pink, please…I won't tell them anything…"

Mr. Pink simply lit a cigarette, and his anxiety was shown clearly when he respired erratically, throwing the smoke into the air in large uneven waves. He lifted himself from his chair and walked towards the doorway, before disappearing around the corner.

Freddy looked down towards his chest, where the second bullet fired by Joe Cabot had met its mark, the slowly bleeding wound seeping through the bandages. The sight of his body and the injuries he had received, that were now surely killing him, were overwhelming. _Don't fucking cry._ He threw his head back down onto the pillow and stared at roof, before a hand grabbed his own. Larry stood over him with a saddened grimace, Pink not far behind. The tension in his throat increased, making him want to spill all of the emotions he felt to these men who were now his friends, but he couldn't make words.

"You don't have to talk, you just need to listen. I don't want to take you to a hospital, because I don't want to see you get locked up. And I know that you feel scared Ora-"

"Stop… stop"

"Don't interrupt I'm tryi-"

"Stop Larry. I don't care about jail, I won't say anything to the cops, I just don't want…" He choked again before continuing "I don't want to fucking die"

Every sob that followed was like having someone press a branding iron to his chest, a burning so intense that he couldn't even draw breath. Larry gripped the collar of his shirt and pulled him closer into a tight embrace.

"You know that I can't do that"

* * *

He had to leave the room, it was unfair. _Poor fucking kid is going to die for sure…_He lit the last cigarette in the packet as he walked down the hall towards the kitchen. The radio was playing faintly in the background as their host diced the vegetables for dinner, and like the last 4 days, the media was still raving on about the heist, and the escaped suspects.

"Can you please turn that fucking shit off Paul, its doing my head in, I can't even watch the T.V without being bombarded with headlines about those fucking diamonds"

Paul looked him in the eyes before changing the channel.

"He isn't doing well is he?"

The smoke of both of their cigarettes filled the small room as Pink seated himself at the dining table.

"Larry just wants the kid to be alright, you know. But I think we all know that he isn't going to be, and the whole situation is so fucking unfair but we can't take him to a hospital. It's too risky"

"What do you mean?"

"What do you mean, what do I mean"

"The risky part"

"Larry and I might get caught"

The silence that followed was full of tension.

"Does that really matter? Yeah there's a possibility of being caught but at least you'll go to jail with a clear conscience knowing that you didn't let him die. I dunno, I'm not an expert, but I think it's pretty damn selfish"

It was true. It was selfish, but he had worked too hard throughout his life to risk it all and give up now. _No fuck this, you're not being selfish you're just doing your job. _

"It's just a job, Paul. You meet people that don't deserve what happens to em', and sometimes things don't work out, but you have to just toughen the fuck up and move on"

An expression of disbelief overshadowed the man's face, and he turned to face the cooking pot once more.

"But this man's not just a co-worker, he's a friend"

Friend…the word stuck itself in his mind. He never did have friends. But he had said it himself earlier that day, he had really come out of this job closer to these two men than he had been to anyone in a very long time.

"What do you suggest we fucking do then?"

Paul stared at his feet for a long while before answering the question.

"I suggest you and White pack up and hit the road. Find yourself a car and get out of town. I'll take Orange to get help, say I found him, don't know nothing about no robbery, only what I've seen on the news. If they want to check the house, let them, they won't find anything…"

"Yeah, but what if you get arrested"

"I'd rather get arrested than let that man die, and know I could have saved his life"

"I agree with Paul, Mr. Pink."

The third person joining the conversation startled the pair. He turned to where Larry stood hunched in a pained way against the wall, with obviously reddened eyes.

"Mr. White? What changed your mind?"

"What changed my mind? Sense… and knowing that the dying man in the room over has a young wife to go home too"

Pink felt his chest tighten, the weight of the information he had just received crushing him.

"Fuck…"

* * *

Lies, that was all he could tell. Lie after Lie after Lie. _A wife? _He had never been married, but the ring that he wore on his finger as a part of his false persona had just changed Larry's mind. Why did he tell a lie to someone who trusted him so much, someone who saved his life? Because he was desperate, and even though the two men were doing what they thought was right, by keeping him hidden and away from the police, they were killing him.

_Don't feel guilty, you need to survive…so that you can try your hardest to lead the cops away, and give them a false scent to follow. _


	7. Chapter 7

**I just want to apologise for not updating sooner! I've had this chapter finished for a couple of days, but I haven't been able to access my account, I'm not sure if it was just me or whether everyone was effected. Anyways here it is! Chapter 7, I hope you enjoy and hopefully I will be able to get the next chapter up by this afternoon. Thankyou for all of the reviews and follows too, you guys are amazing!**

* * *

He could feel his heart beating strongly as he peered once more from the blinds, separating the thin plastic sheets to get a better view of the street.

"It's all clear…"

Immediately Larry swung open the front door, and Paul lifted Orange from where he was laid on the couch. He felt himself rush to the young man's aid, taking some of the weight. _Man he's heavy. _The uneven pathway caused him to stumble more than once on the way to the small car parked on the curb, and it dawned on him that this was the last time he would probably see the kid. A sick feeling grew in his stomach, _are we doing the right thing?_

"Keep moving Pink, come on faster, we don't want to get seen here by the neighbours"

Pink lifted Orange's legs into the back seat of Paul's car, bending them slightly to evade the closing door. He could feel White standing above him. _You have to give him a moment to say goodbye, after all, he did give up everything to save him…._

"You stay here for a moment Larry, I'll go get the rest of our things from inside."

He ran back up the path into the house and retrieved his wallet and jacket, as well as White's roll of cash that he found stashed in his trouser pockets. _Why do I feel so guilty? It's not like we forced him to go, he has wanted to go to a hospital since he first got shot, if anything we are doing what's best for him._

_But what if he gets the blame for all the dead cops…what if they charge him for shit he didn't do?_

Nothing was ever this hard in this job, no decision that he had ever made was as difficult as leaving this kid behind… but why, what made him so damn special. He didn't know, but there was something about Orange that was different than the others on the job, even Mr. White didn't have as much of an effect.

He pulled his comb from his pocket and fixed his hair in the hallway mirror before pulling the front door open again. As he made his way down the path he could see that the car was already gone, and Larry had seated himself on the front gutter. _That's it then…_Mr. Orange was gone, and he didn't even get to say his goodbye.

"We did the right thing Pink…now let's get moving"

He stared solemnly at his feet for a moment, the feeling shared between them being one that was both uncomfortable and unsettling.

"Did we do the right thing, Mr. White?"

* * *

He pulled the car into the ambulance bay at the hospital and sat for a moment taking in deep breaths_. They're going to ask questions…but that's ok because you don't know nothing, you found him like this… _The story had so many holes in it, it had been four days since the diamond heist went wrong, how could he have just found him now? Orange wouldn't have lived four days on his own.

What about… he sat and went over the possible stories he could tell to the police, to the hospital staff, a tale that would sound believable, but wouldn't tie him to the actual job. He pulled the rear-view mirror downwards so that most of his own reflection was visible.

"I don't know anything about the guy, I was told to call him Mr. Orange. Two of his buddies dropped him off at my house a few days ago and split, I don't know why they came to me, but when my father was alive he was involved with all of that mobster kind of…gang? Scene. So when he was dragged into my house I figured that it was guys Dad used to know when he was still in the business…"

_Yeah that's good, you can start off with that, just make up the rest how hard can it be?_

He stepped out of his car and jumped up and down on the spot readying himself for the chaos that was going to follow, before sprinting in the direction of the emergency doors_. You have to make it believable…_

"Help! Help me please!"

He waved his hands as he ran across the almost empty carpark and was relieved when he caught the attention of two paramedics that were standing just inside the doors. He quickened his pace and made it to the buildings front steps before kneeling on the ground breathless. A hand gripped his shoulders and pulled him upright, before another staff member who looked like she worked at the desk held his arm to keep him from falling again.

"Help please I have a man, he's hurt real bad"

"Ok keep breathing, now where is he son?"

Paul pointed at his car that was minuscule in size amongst the various ambulance vans, and in doing this more than five employees, that seemed to appear out of thin air, ran towards where Orange was sprawled in the back seat. The woman who had helped him squeezed tightly on his arm before ushering him inside.

"Come on inside and take a seat, I'll make you up a cup of tea or coffee and you can just relax, ok. I'm sure your friend will be fine. Now, do the police need to be called, how was this friend of yours injured?"

"He's not a friend, I don't even know this man, but he's been shot more than once, I think that calling the cops is a good idea"

With that the woman, or 'Pam' as her nametag stated, ran towards a telephone and began to dial…

_This is it_…

* * *

The sound of a fist knocking on his door woke him from the sleep that he had fallen into; he pinched his nose before sitting up straight in his chair, _I don't want to deal with no more of this bullshit. _He hadn't slept for days, everything had gone so wrong and in a sense he felt responsible, but the whole goddamn Police Precinct was riding his ass and asking constant questions about the case that even he didn't know the answers to.

"What do you want now? I told you this morning I'm working on it, ok I don't know where-"

The door was pushed open by a uniformed officer who looked drained by the news he was carrying.

"Detective Holdaway Sir! They found him, they found Freddy…"


	8. Chapter 8

Eyes glared at him from all directions, eyes of judgement, and eyes that seemed to feel the same pain he felt. He wanted to get onto his knees and thank god that they had found him, and yet as he ran through the hall that was full of sick and mourning people he knew this was no place for joy. Freddy was either seriously injured, or he was dying, and he didn't want to think about the possibility of either.

As he rounded the corner, the office for the emergency unit came into view. A woman standing at the desk taking calls seemed to be expecting him as he walked past.

"Sir, sir you can't go in there- "

He pulled his badge from the pocket of the jacket he was wearing. It gave him no real power here, but it was worth a shot. He pushed his way through the heavy doors and blocked out the woman that called after him.

_Come on Freddy, be alright man._

As he walked he searched the windows for any sign of him, all he wanted was to know was that he was alright, or at least going to live. The lights were dim in the hall, and nurses rushed from door to door to try and aid their dying patients. The sound of loss could be heard in that single flat continuous beep that seemed to ring in every second room, and immediately he could feel his pace quicken. It was like a maze, it seemed impossible to find him amongst all of the chaos.

He continued on until finally he came across a room with a young man standing leaning against the glass_. That's the first person I have seen the entire time I've been in here…_ He was hunched forward, hand against his chest and another over his mouth, eyes closed firmly as the sound of a flat line echoed from the room he stood in front of. _Poor kid…_

He slowed down, and tried to keep his head low as he passed but couldn't help glancing quickly through the open blinds. The body on the table was limp, with one hand hanging down over the side in a lifeless manner. The man's face was turned away from Holdaway's sight, but he recognised that haircut anywhere…

_No_

The doctor bought down his hand forcefully on the man's chest, and nurses ran to give him assistance. Everything seemed to happen so slowly, like the world had stopped, that was until his view was blocked. One of the staff had closed the blinds.

He sat down, the same whirring tone loud in his ears. His hands found his face as he managed to enclose his expression from the rest of the world. _No, this isn't happening…_

"Hey…" The hand that shook his shoulder did so gently, aware of the thoughts running through his mind. "Hey, you're a detective right?"

He pulled his hands away from his face and stared into the glassy eyes of the young man, who looked as though he was only in his twenties.

"I was told you would be coming down, I'm Paul" He extended a hand that he met with his own, the greeting solemn and full of grief. He didn't feel a need to talk, he just wanted to sit and be allowed to process what was happening.

"Look I really need to speak with you, I had nothing to do with it-"

The door swung open and two nurses removed themselves from the room holding their hands to their chests as they made their way down the hallway, leather shoes clicking as the soles hit the floor. A large man followed, removing the gloves from his hands and turning to both of them, who were now seated waiting for the news to be delivered.

"Look, he is alive for now but it's not looking great. We won't definitely know if he is going to survive for at least another twelve to twenty-four hours. Our best nurses are watching him and they will be monitoring his vitals very carefully…"

"Can we see him?"

"I really don't think tha-"

"Doctor please, I don't expect him to talk back to me, I just want to see him with my own eyes"

The doctor looked at him, before finally nodding slightly and opening the door.

"Just don't touch anything"

He pushed his way through the door into the room and felt immediately shocked by the state in which his friend had found himself. The jungle of wires, tubes and fluids that surrounded the top of Freddy's bed hung low to the floor, and as he moved closer it took all of the concentration he could muster to avoid catching them with his feet.

"What did they do to you Freddy…?"

He grasped his friends hand in his own and squeezed it softly waiting for an answer but there was none. His skin was cold, and his face was pale, he could have been a ghost. He was startled from his own thoughts by the other person in the room that he hadn't noticed come in.

* * *

Mr. Pink said there was a rat, and he was right. Paul watched as the detective entered the room where Orange was being kept and made his way towards the opposite side of the bed. Since he had arrived, this man 'Holdaway' was interested in one thing, the welfare of his 'buddy', his 'pal'.

_Orange is the filthy cop that ruined the diamond store heist. _

It didn't take him too long to figure it out, no officer was ever that worried about a criminal. He felt shattered, betrayed by this man who played the cards so well, and kept his cover hidden despite the circumstances.

_Keep calm Paul, you want this detective to believe you had nothing to do with it…make conversation._

"So, is he friend of yours? You seem pretty close to him, the way you came running down the hall before."

The man turned to face him, seemingly shocked that there was another person in the room, he mustn't have known.

"This man, this man right here is incredible. Nobody goes missing for four days and comes back to us alive. Not like the way he has done it"

"So what is he exactly?"

The question wasn't supposed to sound so bitter, but he knew the answer already. The fucking dirty son of a bitch traitor had to be working undercover. The man stared at him for a moment before delivering the blow.

"Freddy here is a police informant… an undercover cop"


	9. Chapter 9

**I feel like I have gone Reservoir Dogs crazy! This chapter ends in a (kind-of) cliff-hanger, and I am so sorry to those of you who will be wanting an update when you finish this part of the story, because I wont have computer access until Friday night! Its going to be hell, but there is strictly no laptops on school camp so I have to leave my fanfiction behind for a couple of days (ughh the torture!). So I apologize in advance, but I hope you still enjoy!**

**And I love the reviews I have been receiving! thankyou so much geko-blackjack and virendraLione, You two are super awesome!**

* * *

The car ride had been a silent one, there was no discussion that he could think of that seemed appropriate, and the faulty radio was trying his patience. He banged on the tuner again before throwing himself back into his seat. He let out a large, frustrated huff as he crossed his arms and stared at the road ahead. Mr. White, who insisted on driving was beginning to make groans, whether they were moans of frustration or a growing pain, he couldn't tell.

"Hey, pull over. Let me drive for a bit, I'm bored out of my fucking mind"

Larry appeared to ignore his request, that was until the car moved towards the side of the road and stopped suddenly. The way in which he now sat in the seat made him seem annoyed about something and the jolting halt that the vehicle had come to felt violent in a sense.

"I'm done with calling you Mr. Pink"

The tone was full of ferocity, and the topic that had been brought to light was so unimportant.

"Look man does it really matter? I mean, it's been a rough day and I know you're fed up with the whole situation. I didn't want to leave him behind either ok, but do you really need to know my name?"

Right from the start he had sworn not to reveal his real name, and even though the job was over, he still felt incredibly anxious about exposing it.

"Yes, it may not be important to you but I would like to know. I feel ridiculous calling you Mr. Pink, we've passed that point now and the job is behind us. You said at Paul's that we were friends…friends know each other's names"- He shook his hands in front of him now, just as he had towards Blonde at the rendezvous point. _Why so fucking angry?_

"I'll tell you my name, but you have to let me drive"

The front doors of the car flung open at once, both men stepping out of the vehicle to trade positions. As he swung into the driver's seat the familiar feeling of the steering wheel was a welcomed one. _Finally, I won't be so damn bored…_

"There, you happy. Now Mr. Pink, your name as promised"

He hesitated for a moment.

"Why do we have to-"

"Mr. Pink!"

"Fine...fine! My name is Robert"

"Robert what?"

"Robert fucking Saulino, you happy?"

Mr. White nodded his head in approval and the car fell silent again as he pulled away from their parked position.

"Is that Italian?"

"No, it's fucking Chinese"

Larry chuckled lightly before pulling a cigarette from his jacket, and lighting it, exhaling loudly as though he was relieving himself of a great weight.

"You want one, Mr…Saulino?"

"Nah, I quit"

Both men laughed as Mr. White lit a second smoke, and held it in front of his mouth. He grasped it with his teeth and inhaled, the sensation burning the back of this throat. There was a sudden feeling of companionship as the two of them enjoyed a cigarette each, and although there were tense moments and anger filled arguments often erupted between them, he could trust this man.

There was a sudden change in mood, as Larry turned away to look out of the window.

"How do you think Paul and Orange are holding up?"

He exhaled slowly, thinking over the response to that question.

"Larry, I honestly think that they are both going to be ok"

* * *

_You have to tell Larry and Pink…you have to warn them somehow._

He paced up and down the hall as Holdaway finished his conversation with the doctor; the two men swapping information with one another about both the case and 'Freddy's' condition.

"Thankyou doctor, I'll be in tomorrow to check up on how he is but you'll ring me if anything changes?"

The doctor simply nodded before walking in the opposite direction, disappearing from view around the corner. The detective lingered for a moment in front of the window and stared into the room before sighing and making his way to where Paul was standing.

"Ok, so, you're going to have to come back to the ranks with me, I need to ask you a couple of questions, it won't take very long"

"Sure thing officer"

He stopped walking and stared with one eyebrow raised.

"Do not, ever, call me 'Officer'. I hate being called Officer…just Holdaway, ok?"

He nodded uncomfortably in reply, which caused the man to step forward and wrap a hand around his shoulder.

"Don't feel intimidated, you have to be my favourite person right now. I'm just glad that you had the guts to bring him in, he would have died"

Holdaway's own words seemed to shock him as something he thought was impossible, his expression changing dramatically.

"Anyway, you must be hungry, we will have to go and get something to eat before we return to the station"

"Holdaway, Sir, would you mind if I just made a phone-call? I just need to call my girlfriend she might be getting worried about where I am, and I don't want to stress her"

The detective handed him the change from his pocket.

"There's a phone just outside, I'll come out and get you in a few moments, I just need to talk to the woman at the desk first"

"I'll make it quick"

* * *

"Come on Larry hurry the fuck up, you're going to miss the call!"

This had to be Paul, he was the only person with the number to 'Robert's' mobile phone. It rang from somewhere in the backseat and although he tried his hardest to turn around, his wound wouldn't allow it.

"I can't reach!"

Pink drove the car off the road and brought it to a screeching halt, leaping from his seat and opening the rear door. He dived inside, fumbling amongst the various bags and coats before successfully pulling the device from the pocket of a worn pair of pants. Extending the antenna he stood up straight and moved back to his place in the driver's seat. Larry was sure he had a nervous look on his face, Paul wouldn't be calling unless something had gone wrong. Pink continued the conversation, and the anxiousness he felt was only fuelled the longer he was kept waiting for answers.

"Did you get to the hospital, is Orange ok?-"

He needed to know, to hear for himself what was being said on the other end of the call. Suddenly Pinks face became detached, like the world had stopped…something was very, very wrong.

* * *

**I am so cruel! I'm sorry!**


	10. Chapter 10

**This Chapter is so shoddy! I can't even express how much my brain hurts after trying to write this up so quickly. I hope it satisfies enough, and makes sense! Please be honest, if its really bad I will re-write and replace it when I return to my computer on Friday. Enjoy if you are able!**

* * *

The table was cold on his forearms as he nervously locked his fingers together; waiting for Holdaway was torture for his mind. _Maybe he is taking forever because they suspect something?_  
He could feel his legs shaking, and it took all of the will-power he had to prevent himself from running his hands through his hair. _You were always a bad liar…_

He needed to be calm, to look as ordinary as possible in front of the police. It was hard though, when the wall that he was seated beside was a mirror. He watched a lot of T.V, and in all of the crime shows, there were always police behind, hidden, out of the view of the criminal. He scanned his own reflection, panicking as a drop of sweat ran down his forehead, _shit, they know I'm not completely innocent…_

"He definitely looks suspicious…no guiltless person ever looks that nervous."

Walsh was right, the kid was shaking, sweating and talking to himself.

"He looked fine and hour ago"

"Do you want me to question him? Isn't there some paperwork you need to have done for Freddy?"

He wanted to interview this 'Paul' character himself, but Officer Tegan was right, the paperwork regarding their injured friend was extensive.

"You know, that would be great, you're a helpful woman Officer, I appreciate it"

"Anything for you Holdaway"

She smiled over her shoulder as she went to exit the room, a small notepad in hand. She was a kind woman, a bit rough in that sense that she could take care of herself, but overall a perfect cop. Not just that, her short blonde hair and perfect body attracted the men she worked with.

"Hey Tegan, before you go…" She turned her head and waited for what he had to say, half standing in the doorway "I think it would be good for Freddy if you went and saw him tomorrow, you know how much he likes you"

She grinned a little before lifting her middle finger, the notepad still gripped awkwardly in her hand.

"That's none of your business..."

* * *

Pink reached backwards and placed the phone on the rear seat, atop the mess he had created whilst trying to find it earlier. He could feel something was wrong, the talkative man was too silent…too neutral.

"Hey, what's going on, what happened? What's wrong, did something go wrong?"

He stared out the window silently ignoring Larry's question. _What's happened…?_ He placed a hand on Roberts shoulder reassuringly, but it was brushed away, the thin man standing and walking away from the car.

"Pink answer me! What the fuck happened!"

He continued to take large strides, head down, his body held firmly with his arms by his sides. They were stiffened his hands in fists.

"You don't need to know Larry, ok, its fine, Orange is fine he got to a hospital!"

"So why are you so angry? Isn't that what we set out to do!?"

He began to whimper as he paced back and forward.

"We're so done…"

He had never seen this side of Pink, he looked as though he could break down at any moment. He opened his door and with much effort pulled himself out of the car, taking a moment to find his footing on the uneven ground. Approaching the man he gripping his sleeve, only this time the soothing gesture was not rejected. Robert leant on him, and silently calmed himself. He knew he couldn't push him, Saulino's temper was sharp, he could snap easily, but waiting for the answers he wanted was almost impossible.

Finally when the situation had died down, Pink sat amongst the red dirt and thorny weeds as though he had given up.

"Don't be ridiculous stand up and come back to the car"

"Why?"

"What's gotten into you, why are you so upset?"

"I'm afraid of what you will do if I tell you"

* * *

He could feel himself trembling as Larry stood over him_. I knew I should have kept driving that day…  
why, why are you a cop Orange?_

What he had said was not a lie, he was scared that White would lash out at the news and accuse him of lying, or worse, try to turn back. He inhaled, his body shaking under the stress of knowing that the man they had helped would be most likely hunting them down and finding them as soon as he left his hospital bed.

"Larry please, don't hurt me ok, because what I'm about to say is true"

The older man kneeled down and shook his shoulder firmly.

"Hey, why would you be lying to me now anyways? I trust you Pink, ok, I trust you. But I am going to get very mad if you don't tell me what's going on and soon"

He could feel the anger rising inside him, _how could he? How could he sit back and let Larry kill Joe and Eddie? _

"Oran-"he choked up, knowing that White was going to crumble under the weight of the news "Orange was the rat".

He sobbed for a moment before composing himself and raising his sight to meet his friends, whose grip had tightened on his arm now, fingers digging into his flesh. The throbbing pain in his arm caused by the anger Larry was feeling became numbing, and he felt the need to elaborate on his story, so that he might choose to let his hold go.

"I swear I'm telling the truth, I swear. His name is Freddy Newendyke, he works for the LAPD as an undercover cop, he was there to bring down Joe. He used your fucking trust and faith in him as a shield, and he let you take out his target for him…I'm so sorry Larry"

He could feel his chest tightening with the grief he felt. He had known Joe since he was a kid, and he was nothing but good to him. It hadn't registered that he was really dead until now.

"I killed them…"

White's whole body fell forward into him under the burden of his own words, the now crying man's head pressed firmly against his shoulder. He wouldn't have ever expected this man to break, but he did; and all he could do was pull him closer and do his best to comfort. There was no need for speaking, but he was certain of one thing. The traitor would pay for this.


	11. Chapter 11

**I haven't updated in so long, and I am so, so sorry! I will be uploading another chapter tomorrow and most likely another the next day, I apologise again, and I can promise that the story will get interesting in the next instalment!**

* * *

"Ok, so Paul, can you please repeat that last line again? I just want to get it on tape."

The female officer had been sweating him down for the past two hours. She was nice enough, but a cunning charm was hidden under her short, blonde, wavy hair. A machine was placed on the table, her thin fingers pressing down softly on the record button. He could feel his throat tighten, what he was about to say was un-erasable.

"I had no part in the robbery, I was given this man to take care of, by two men that I had never seen until four days ago when they knocked on my door."

"So what you're saying is two mysterious men show up at your house and toss you a dying man, and you don't call any authorities. The robbery was all over the news, the radio's, weren't you even the slightest bit suspicious that something wasn't right?"

He needed to tread carefully, she missed no detail.

"My father was in the business before he died three months ago. Since then, strange men have come around to the house asking for him. Seeking his advice, asking if they can spend a couple of days to lay low-"

"Did you get their names- these strange men?"

"No- there was only one thing that they all had in common, they wore black suits. The two men that brought Freddy to my house were the same, only, they were more desperate. I could tell that they really needed the help; and for some strange reason, I just agreed to it."

"Ok, but why take on that responsibility? You don't know these men, why help? It's just the only thing that I don't quite understand"

"I don't like seeing people suffer, I couldn't turn them away. Orange would have died, they wouldn't have taken him to a hospital"

She sat for a minute across from him and chewed on the end of her pen.

"Fair enough, you sound like a good man, Paul"

There was a small sense of relief when the Officer said this, a smile on her face. She signalled for him to stand and he followed her outside down the corridor of watchful police eyes.

"I'm going to take you back to your car, it was cleaned for you after it was checked for evidence, but they found nothing incriminating. You're a free man"

He sighed heavily as he continued to follow her, red shoes clicking on the tile floor as she walked. She handed her notebook to a large man in thick rimmed reading glasses as she passed his desk, and he greedily accepted the information, scouring the page for something interesting.

The office was stuffy, the relief of knowing that fresh air was only a matter of steps away made him want to move towards the door faster. A line of interesting people sat along the side of the hall, cuffed to chairs…_Poor Bastards_.

* * *

"Look, Larry, I think I know how you feel but we should just keep going the way we were going before the call man. I mean, even if we make it all the way back without being arrested, the chances of him being alone, and not under surveillance is small…"

White remained quiet as he drove the car, staring ahead at the road, paying no attention to the plea. He had been trying to talk him into continuing their escape for hours, but when he finally waited for his companions reply, there was nothing, but his own thoughts and the maddening humming that the car was making. _This is fucking ridiculous…_

"What do you expect to do when we get there, huh? Pull your guns, shoot him down and then escape? This isn't a fucking western, ok, we will be caught this time!"

_Fuck you! Motherfucker son of a bitch, going to get us both fucking killed or worse, thrown in-_

"I can't do fucking jail man! Ok I'm not like you, I get locked up, I will be seen as fresh meat, I'm not intimidating!"

"Pink shut up!"

"Or what, you going to shoot me too! Huh? Like you did with Joe and Eddie! Go ahead I'll be better off dead than in prison!"

The car screeched to a halt. _Shit…you took it too far man. _Larry's face was twisted into a scowl, and he could see his knuckles turning white as he clenched the steering wheel.

"Shit, ok that was too far, but seriously, how do you expect us to get away with this. Do you really want to hurt him…? I don't…"

He was looking White straight in the eye now, and for a moment he could see remorse, before his lack of conscious fell into play again.

"I don't want to hurt him Pink…I want him dead"

Larry's tone was shaky, as if uncertain of his own judgement, before he put the car back in gear and stared for a moment from his rear vision mirror. The tension had died down, and the car was silent for a few moments, enabling him to create a distraction from their current argument.

"Hey, I'm hungry, can we stop at that place we passed earlier for a meal that's decent. The sign out the front said they had prime ribs…and I just want to sit back, eat a plate of food and talk over plans with my friend ok"

White nodded before the car pulled away, travelling back on the road they had been following away from the place of disaster. He felt no need for arguing anymore, Larry was injured, tired and upset with himself. There was no reason to push him further than he already had.

_Just agree with his plans…he might come to his own senses…and ribs will put him in a better mood._

* * *

He could feel a light vibration coursing through the entirety of his body, his lungs filling without him. He could see the bright light through his eyelids, piercing his vision, and the groggy state in which he was in was making him feel sick to the stomach. _Where am I?_

"Hey? Freddy are you awake…?"

_Who…? Tegan?_

A wave of relief came over him, he was safe. He struggled and pushed harder now to open his eyes, fighting the light that blurred his vision. Blinking twice he moved his head to the left where the familiar voice had come from. Even before his sight had cleared he could see her, the blonde short hair and bright red lips were enough to frame her face. She smiled, and it was instant warmth. It was then that the thought struck him.

_Where's Larry?_


	12. Chapter 12

He made his way down the hall, bustling with nurses and doctors. The door was up ahead, Freddy was finally awake, not quite speaking yet, but he had opened his eyes. As soon as he had received the call from Officer Walsh, a load of stress had been lifted from his shoulders. There were no eyes on the inside of the warehouse, and the events that had taken place were unclear; as soon as he had moved his men inside to apprehend the suspects, the survivors were gone. He was sure that the blood that had pooled on the floor was Freddy's, he felt certain of it, and until 'Mr. Orange' had been brought back to them, he believed that his undercover friend was dead.

The number above the door read '37'. He went to look through the window, but the blinds were shut. Slowly opening the door he put his foot first before leaning in; he was sure he had remembered the correct room number. _Or is it 36? _He hesitated, not wanting to disturb the wrong patient before a familiar voice drew him further into the room.

"Holdaway?"

He stepped inside now, Tegan's golden locks visible and she turned to face him. She had listened to his advice earlier and come down to see their injured friend, something that he was sure Freddy would be pleased about.

"How is he doing?"

She stroked Newendyke's hand softly, and he opened his eyes. The drugs weren't good to him, his expression seemed sleepy and un- alert compared to his normal upbeat self.

"What happened man…I was so worried about you"

He pulled a chair on the opposite side of the bed as Walsh; Freddy looked him in the eyes before shaking his head and exhaling with much effort, _he really can't talk._

"They have him on strong medication Jim, he won't be well for at least another two days is what the nurse that came in here before said…"

As she said this, he pulled her arm closer and rested it on his chest, before closing his eyes and grimacing at the weight he had placed on his own bandaged wound. Her eyes watered before she looked away, composing herself.

"Hey, did you manage to put a trace on Paul Torisi's phone?"

Really he was distracting her and taking her mind off upsetting herself further, but monitoring the man closely was important. He seemed strange, not quite guilty, but his story was a little bit off.

"Yeah we have surveillance watching him, and while I had him in for questioning they checked his house and found nothing more than a bag of pot and a stain in the carpet that turned out to be nothing more than chilli dip"

"Chilli dip? Really? You did put in cameras though right, I want to watch this man…make sure Dimmick and this 'Mr. Pink' don't return to his house asking for more favours"

Freddy stirred at his criminal comrades names. He didn't want to admit it to himself, but Holdaway knew that Freddy had formed a friendship with this Mr. White. It was an unhealthy bond, but it was his first ever undercover job, and the kid didn't know any better.

"I know should have never sent him in. The heist in itself was too hard for any rookie undercover agent. He is a damn good cop but I don't think that he was prepared for that…you know?"

Tegan nodded her head in agreement.

"I spoke with McKlusky after she printed that sheet on Dimmick, before she met with you guys for lunch to go over what she found in the background check, and I have to say I was worried about him but I never thought that the job would end up with him like this."

She ran a hand through Freddy's hair and his eyelids twitched. The background check made even Holdaway nervous, as they went over the details of the apartment shoot up, that White was suspected to have been the perpetrator behind. The two 9mm pistols drawn and aimed at an apartment full of police and their family members, when he had found out that the man he was working with was a police informant. Recounting the gruesome description of the events in his head was enough to make him cringe, but for some reason he never thought that Freddy would have a fate like that…

"I don't think anyone expected it to go that bad"

He tapped Freddy lightly on the shoulder, taking in the wounds he had received and the dark sunken state of his face. He was needed at the crime scene, to do one last evidence search before the entire thing was cleaned from top to bottom.

"I have to go, the warehouse is being cleaned later today and they want me to give clearance beforehand. You tell those nurses to look after him ok, the mans a fucking hero"

He could hear his own voice beginning to crack, he didn't want to leave just yet, he wanted to stay and wait for him to wake again. Walsh stood and wrapped her arms around him as he headed for the door.

"You'll be ok though hey, you know none of it was your fault. Freddy believed that he could do it, and we all believed it too. Something went wrong along the way…but there's no chance that he will ever blame you for that, and nobody else will either"

She released her hold and stared at him caringly, before retaking her seat.

"Thankyou Walsh, I know that things will be better tomorrow."

* * *

He stared at his plate, mixing the left over gravy and peas with one another. He could hear Mr. Pink finishing the vegetables that came served with the ribs, that weren't as good as they looked on the sign out the front. He wasn't sure how he felt. There was rage, yes; but there was also a part of him that agreed with Robert. He didn't really want to hurt Orange, or 'Freddy' as he had recently learned was his real name, but it was the just thing to do. Joe and Eddie were like family, and now he didn't know why he held such a conviction that they were both wrong for believing that this kid was the traitor. He had after all, only known him for a few weeks leading up to the heist, but there was something about him that was genuine, youthful even. Maybe it was his lack of knowledge, or his attitude that was young at heart, but he was certain now that all of the charm the young man held was trickery.

"More coffee sir?"

The waitress held out the jug in front of him but he respectfully declined. Mr. Pink of course accepted the offer; and he had come to realise that the amount of caffeine the man consumed was in excess and unhealthy. _Maybe that's why he's so damn jumpy all the time…_

As she turned to serve the next table Pinks eyes dropped to stare at her figure, before he fixed his posture and came into contact with Larry's stare.

"What…? You never checked out a woman before, she was pretty fine Larry, I mean did you see-"

The woman at the table across from them was wearing a tight frown on her face, clearly not impressed by the discussion that they were about to start. Robert stared for a moment awkwardly before leaning in closer to continue, whispering the end of his sentence.

"-did you see her ass, she had a backside that looked like something you would only find in one of those picture magazines. That ass, could have been the fucking centrefold"

The conversation took his mind off of the current thoughts that plagued him.

"Don't tell me you're actually thinking of tipping, I thought you never tipped?"

"Larry, Larry, she has filled my coffee seven times, seven… that's rare, she is like my dream waitress, I haven't had a view like that in a long time my friend. I wasn't even sure if what I was seeing was real."

In saying this he pulled a pile of one dollar bills from his pocket and laid them flat on the table.

"Come on White, throw in some in some cash…"

"Sorry Robert, I don't believe in it"

The two chuckled before he searched his pockets and located his wallet, laying out four dollars on top of the money that his companion had already placed. The breakfast meal that the two of them had shared with the rest of the gang before the heist had gone horribly wrong sat on his mind, as they joked about earlier remarks that Pink had made.

"Well Larry, if you're done I'm going to go and find the commode, do you want me to meet you back here, or in the car?"

"I'll meet you in the car, and find the waitress, give her the tips to make sure she's the one who actually gets the money we just coughed up"

"Whoa, whoa there man…its fine, I'll find the waitress"

He took the cash from the table and strolled away towards where the young lady with the 'fine ass' was serving a table and struck up a conversation the seemed to make her uncomfortable. He smiled, for the first time in days. _I was trusting the wrong people in the job the whole time…_

* * *

He walked away from the waitress and turned giving her a wink. She smiled awkwardly before hurrying away with her coffee pot, making sure she put as much distance as she could between them, as he made his way to the men's room.

It was cold, colder in the bathroom than it was in the diner outside. He sat down on the seat and goose bumps appeared on his thighs as they came into contact with the plastic. It was empty, and quiet, the noise of glass plates and light chatter could be heard, but overall it was peaceful. He stared at the door, before searching for the end of the toilet roll, noticing a newspaper placed folded on top of the holder. He opened it and sat up straight and located the date. _Today's paper, let's see what happening in the real world…_

The front page had a headline about a government scandal, something that would have normally interested him, if the second set of bold text on the lower part of the page hadn't caught his attention first. "Police informant hospitalized after working undercover, see page 4"

He wanted to close the paper and forget about the whole thing, he didn't want to read the 'hero' story that he knew would be on the following pages. _Just fold it up and put it back where you found it… _He held it in his hands, curiosity was getting the better of him, and he knew that he should leave it in its place, but he couldn't. He turned to page four, the title reading "Reservoir Dogs".

"_Following the diamond store heist at Karina's , we have received further news that a Police informant was working alongside the men that planned and executed the robbery, in an attempt to bring down and immobilize an organised crime ring. After the robbery went horribly wrong, Frederick Newendyke, a 28 year old officer, went missing and was believed dead by authorities before he showed up, four days after the incident in a grave state. Doctors are hoping that he will wake and recover, but are uncertain of his survival at this point…"_

He scanned over the following three columns until he found a contribution to the article that interested him.

"_One of the leading officers on the case stated earlier in the week that the rendezvous point where the criminals were supposed to meet after the heist, had turned into a bloodbath, leaving three of the men involved, and one officer, dead. He explained the turns of events as it being "similar to when you see rats fall into a barricaded water reservoir, they don't last very long under the pressure, turning on one another, and eating those that fell into the same situation, in hopes of survival and escape. These felons did exactly that, they turned on one another. But I just want to make it clear that we will find the dogs that escaped, and they will not get away this time". The statement made has earned these criminals the title of the 'Reservoir Dogs''; anyone who has seen either of these two men, or has any information on their whereabouts can contact the number below."_

_The Reservoir Dogs… I like it. _He stared at the black and white photograph of Larry that sat alongside a detailed police sketch of himself. He finished up in his cubical before washing his hands at the sink and tucking the paper under his arms.

He stepped into the evening air outside, making his way towards the car in which he could see Larry seated in the passenger seat. Opening the door on his side he tossed the paper to his right, catching the older man off guard.

"Hey White, page four…"


	13. Chapter 13

"_Freddy Newendyke, a 28 year old undercover officer was brought into the hands of medical professionals 2 days ago, by a Good Samaritan, and appears to be on his way to recovery."_

In his mind he had been hoping that Orange would not wake up. The interview at the police station had him anxious about how truly safe his secrets were, but with Freddy awake, and most likely talking soon the sense of dread was growing. It was all over the news, and in the papers… "The Reservoir Dogs", and after Pinks reaction on the phone, the last thing he needed was two criminals showing up on his doorstep.

_What if the police are watching you, pack up and go someplace until it all dies down…no. If you leave and something does happen that will look even more suspicious…_

The sketch of Pink and the photograph of White flashed onto the screen, as the woman reporting, continued to speak of how dangerous they both were. It was bullshit, they had saved Orange, with the known possibility that the authorities might easily track them down, and yet they still put their freedom on the line to make sure he survived. It wasn't right…

There was a sudden rap on the door that caused him to jump, losing his plate of packet-made carbonara. _Fuck…_

He stood slowly, looking for shadows that might indicate who was outside, eyes jumping to the clock that boomed, making the situation all the more eerie when he read the time. _11 at night? Who? _He took slow and silent steps towards the front room of the house.

One after the other, the thumps continued, angrily, violently on his front door…_This is not the police…this is not Pink, or White…There was only one other person._

The door came down on the wooden floor causing the house to shake, as four men pushed through the small entrance with guns drawn. He felt his instinct kick in, as he ran for the knife he knew was left out on the kitchen bench. A shot was fired, smashing the glass in a nearby cabinet, and he fell to his knees, a shard imbedding itself in his cheek. The footsteps of a gunman grew louder as he searched with one arm, knocking the weapon from its place. He felt as though he could throw up right then and there, memories of what these men were capable of, things had done to him in the past re-surfacing.

Fear gripped his mind, as his fingers wrapped around the smooth wooden handle_. You can't let them take you this time…_

A boot came down on his left hand, pain shooting through his arm. He tried to free his broken fingers, but found himself unsuccessful, as he laid amongst the shattered fragments of his deceased mother's plate collection. He turned to face the man, as the heel of the boot was pushed further into the wood, the twisting motion breaking bones that weren't already.

"You should have stayed away, boy, boss told you not to get involved in anything"

A pained gasp escaped his lips.

"Sto- Stop! You're making, a big fucking mistake!"

The weight was lifted from his hand as he rolled onto his back, pulling the arm close to his chest and sitting up. He needed to get out of this situation, and the only way that he could think to escape was hasty. He could injure the man that broke his hand, but three others would follow…._it's worth a shot. _

Inhaling deeply he gripped the knife that he had now pulled in close to his back, out of sight. As he looked up to the man that was now towering over him, one eyebrow raised waiting for an excuse, he swung the knife with precision embedding it in the brute's leg until the blade was no longer visible; ignoring the 40 calibre, semi auto pistol aimed at his forehead.

As he had anticipated the man dropped, similar to that of a sack of potatoes. He scrambled to find his footing, slipping sideways on the tiles, as the other henchman shot bullet after bullet in his direction. The back fence was his best bet..._make a run for the main road_…_don't stop, don't turn around, they're going to follow, to chase and hunt you down, but you are faster…keep running._

Height was his advantage as he approached the barrier placed in front of him, and even with only one hand, he found it incredibly easy to pull himself over.

"_Go and get the car! You, hey! Follow him goddamn it!"_

The distant shouting kept him moving, the last time he was in their hands was only a few months earlier, and still, what he had witnessed them do to his father, and the scars he bore from the event kept him from finding peace and easy rest.

He cleared the last fence, reaching the highway, believing in his own mind that he had made a successful getaway. Paul walked in the shadows along the narrow footpath, jumping at every small sound that was heard in the shrubbery, _they're gone…but keep moving._

The crossing ahead was ill-lit, the light flashing on and off before leaving the road in complete darkness. He walked forward staring down a dark side street, a sinister feeling taking over him, hair standing. A set of headlights flashed on and the rumble of a car engine sounded, thundering, he felt frozen, stuck in his place by fear. He ran out across the main road, paying no attention to the cars passing by, horns blaring.

One of the vehicles screeched to a halt, coming into contact with his legs causing his body to roll into the windscreen, glass shattering under his force and weight. Paul looked up staring across the road to where the Boss' men were getting out of their car, loaded guns in hand. He wanted to get up and run, but he couldn't, a deep gash ran from his knee to the top of his thigh, there was no escape this time. He dragged himself across the bonnet of the car, falling with no grace on to the stony ground below. _Give up…you can't run anymore_

"Oh shit! What the fuck did we hit, was that a person…fuck! Goddamn it White!"

_Pink? _

The door of the car flew open, Whites face shocked by the coincidence.

"Paul? What the fuck are you doing out here? You're supposed to be laying low!"

"Get me in the car! Help, we have to go, we have to leave!"

White seemed to understand the urgency in his voice, stirring with haste. As the older man moved to where he was seated, a spray of bullets hit the hood of the car, embedding in the already damaged panelling with a startling pattering sound. Larry got onto his knees, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, he could feel his body trembling, the open wound on his leg bleeding profusely now.

Pink retaliated, angered by the attack, pulling his two pistols and firing in the direction of the other car. One of the men that had moments before been pursuing him dropped lifeless to the ground, another, still seated in the car, crying out in pain.

"Get in the fucking car!"

The words were harsh, as the thin man reloaded. White shoved Paul into the backseat, before realising that he was injured. The experienced thief turned his attention to the injury, seemingly forgetting the real threat.

"Larry I'm fine! Just get us out of here!"


	14. Chapter 14

Her touch was soft as she ran her fingers through his hair. It was soothing, a calming gesture that made him feel as though he could stay in this room forever and never leave. Like he could escape all of the grief and misery that he had put Larry and Pink through. _You should have told him that you were a cop._ Why didn't he speak up? He was scared, he was dying, but most of all he didn't want to disappoint White…now they both knew. They knew that he was the rat, the traitor; a part of him wished he wasn't, that he wasn't going to return to his empty apartment, and an office full of colleagues branding him as a hero…

"What are you thinking about?"

Freddy opened his eyes to her, the only person who had sided with him since he had stirred from his sleep two days earlier.

"Nothing…"

His voice was husky, the medication he had been given made it hard to speak at times. A troubled smile came over her face, as she stood from her chair to move closer to him.

"You can tell me, it can be just between the two of us"

He wanted to tell Tegan, he really did, but how could he share what he was thinking with her, there was no way she would understand. He shook his head slowly from side to side, causing her to sigh deeply…fearfully. She rested her head on his chest, and he pulled her closer, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. He could feel her heartbeat through the thin hospital sheets.

"Go to sleep then", she said kissing his forehead "You look tired"

As she rose there was a knock at the door, Holdaway was standing outside beckoning her into the hallway, _probably to share more of the secrets their not telling me. _Tegan squeezed his hand, before taking her things from where she had hung them on the back of her chair.

"I'll come back tomorrow, ok, relax a little"

Freddy felt himself nod in response, as her heels ticked along the floor, before she disappeared; the door closing on its own, slowly. There was no way for him to tell what was going on with White and Pink, but he figured that if they had been caught he would have been told. _That means their still out there… _A mix of emotions flooded him, if they were still free, then that meant he wasn't responsible for their imprisonment; but if they knew that he was the rat, Larry would be back to finish him off. Why would he do such a thing after so much effort went into 'Mr. Orange's' defence? Because it was the even-handed thing to do.

* * *

"Walk with me"

He gripped her arm, there was no way to explain what had occurred at the 'Paul' kid's house. Overturned furniture, kicked in door, blood. It was a mess, and the boy was nowhere to be found.

"Holdaway what's going on?"

She asked as she tried to pace her strides with him, skipping every few steps in attempt to keep up.

"Paul's house, we go in there this morning when we ring and he doesn't answer his phone right, house is a fucking mess. Smashed windows, glass everywhere…dried blood on the floor, we haven't gone over the tapes yet but I want you to look over the damage done inside and tell me what you see"

"He's gone I'm guessing? Do you think it was an escape from the law, or was someone after him?"

"I haven't told you the full story yet, wait, it gets better. Last night on a road a few blocks over from his house, gunfire was reported. We get there ten minutes after the whole ordeal went down. Two men dead, shattered car windscreens…it was messy."

"Whoa, whoa, wait… you think its Dimmick and Pink?"

"Agh wait! Yes, because, a young man identified by witnesses to be around the age of twenty was pulled into one of the cars that escaped the scene, I have no doubts about it being Paul"

He watched her expressions change, brows furrowed. It was frustrating, he knew that much, to not know what was truly going on.

"I let that little bastard free, he probably knew exactly where they were…lying little prick, can't wait until I find him, he's going to get an earful from me"

Holdaway tried his hardest to hold in his smile, admiring the feisty anger that Officer Walsh was known for. She began to make her way down the hall ahead of him, stride more firm, every heel click sounding more determined than the last.

"Show me this crime scene, I want to get a real good look at it"

* * *

"This place is a dump, look at it! This is our hideout, really, couldn't we have stayed at a motel or something?"

The abandoned set of units was, admittedly, not very appealing from the outside. It was however, home to a small apartment in which Larry had furnished while he was staying in town for the heist, _nothings better than no rent, and no suspicious neighbours._

"Pink just get out of the car, we don't have much of a choice, we're wanted for murder, remember, mugshots on T.V all that business, I wouldn't be too fussy if I were you"

The thin man made a look of disgust, before pushing the car door open. His hands were then placed on his hips as he swayed from side to side, making an effort to shows his discontent.

"Such a shithole"

"Goddamn it shut up! – are you alright Paul?"

Paul looked like he was just as annoyed with Roberts whining, raising his eyebrows and smirking slightly. He was a good kid, very calm, and in tune with what the world of crime was able to throw at him.

"Come on buddy, let's get you inside…take a look at that leg of yours"

He reached down wrapping an arm under the young mans to take his weight before hoisting him out of the car. There were black bags under his eyes from lack of sleep, and the sticks and leaves still in the boys hair, were getting on Larry's nerves, presentation is everything. He let it go for now, wanting to get them all inside before anyone spotted them.

"Hey Pink, get your ass inside"

He turned in response, cigarette in his mouth.

"I'll be in soon, just give me a fucking minute to enjoy the breeze and fresh air before I'm imprisoned in that hell-hole you call home"

He felt himself roll his eyes, before whispering to Paul.

"Drama queen over there needs a moment, come on, let's get you settled and fed so you can get some sleep, yeah?"

He received a nod before making his way towards the building, _Getting up those stairs is going to be fun. _He pushed his way through the lobby door, pleased that he chose to construct his nest on the third floor instead of the sixth, with Paul hung from his left shoulder. The first step seemed easy, but by the time they had reached the second floor platform they both needed to sit and catch their breath.

It wasn't long before the young man was on his feet again however, wanting to get to the room as quick as possible, Larry figured, to sleep or eat. He aided him again, climbing four stairs before the main entrance door creaked open, Pink's mumbling to himself echoed throughout the empty building, causing them both to chuckle as he quickly caught them both.

"You want to just carry him up Larry? It would be easier."

_Is Pink offering to help? I never thought I would see the day…_

"If you think you're able"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you're only a small man and we have a whole flight of stairs to walk still"

The string bean scoffed before retaliating.

"Old man, if you can do it, I'm sure as hell that I can do it"

"Hey guys-" Paul spoke up over the insults that had been let fly "I'm flattered, ok, I really am, but I think teamwork is needed here…"

_Cheeky little bastard_, he thought, as Robert came to give him a lift, picking up the boys legs whilst he took the weight of his shoulders.

"Holy shit, Jesus Christ, what do you fucking eat? I swear you weigh more than my Aunt Patty"

"It's called muscle Pink, ever heard of it, you clearly don't have any"

Mr. Pink's facial expression changed from smug to insulted.

"You keep talking like that you little prick, I might just drop you. I know you're not a man yet but that's no reason to get jealous alright"

Paul sniggered at the remark, as they scaled the last three steps, huffing at the end, _shit that was harder than it looked. _He left his two companions to sit on the rug outside his door while he fiddled on his keys for the correct one to open the lock. _Found it, _he pushed it in, the handle clicking as he opened the door leading to his hideaway. He walked inside and checked it hadn't been tampered with before calling the others in.

Everything was the way he left it, Whiskey on the bench, couch draped with his blanket. He made his way into the other room, the mattress on the floor also, made up ready for sleeping. Larry went and retrieved Paul, who was standing in the doorway where Pink had left him.

"Come on kid, get inside, make yourself at home, go and rest on the bed in the other room"

Extending a hand, he led the young man into the room where he lowered him down into a comfortable position.

"I'm going to have to clean that leg before you do any sleeping alright? There's no way you're getting away with not cleaning it, we don't want no infection to make itself at home."

He looked down, and stared at the man's grazed and bruised figure. _He's a fucking tough boy. _Larry was about to get some alcohol and the hidden medical kit before the state of Pauls hair stopped him. He pulled the comb from his pocket, running it through the tattered raven hair, removing the debris and fragments of windscreen glass.

"You remind me of my dad a lot"

He was looking into his eyes now, a childlike innocence radiating from the young man's youthful face.

"How so?"

"I don't know you just do"

"And where is this father of yours?"

The pause in the conversation caused tension. _Shit._

"He's dead. Those guys who came after me, they killed him a few months back. I'd love to make them all pay for it, but there's only one me… you probably don't want to hear all of this touchy feely shit anyways White, it's not important"

"No, no, please…elaborate"


	15. Chapter 15

**Oh God! I really hope this makes sense! Please, I think I will need reviews for this chapter so that I know its not a total fail! (Or is a total fail D:), I hope you enjoy it anyway, it was a major brain strain to write!**

* * *

"My dad, used to work for a man down in Long Beach, now this guy's selling out all of his associates to the LAPD, he's a real asshole. One day we go and see this 'boss' of his, I was just tagging along, learning tricks of the trade, walk into the guys office and what do we find? He's in a get-together with three boys in blue, talking about a deal that was going down in a weeks' time, some drug swap that he had heard about through his connections. Dad, he was a businessman, he didn't believe in ratting to cops, he informed these high-end drug runners that they were in big trouble, authorities knew about their meet and greet; they were thankful, cancelled the whole thing."

He took a sip of water, both Pink and White were staring at him now, quiet and content on hearing the full story. It wasn't easy talking about his father, but he was sure that this guy 'Long beach Mike' was behind the police set-up at Karina's.

"And everyone just assumed that they chickened out of the swap, nobody would have even guessed that we informed them. Now Dad, he put the whole thing behind him, forgot about Long Beaches' betrayal of his fellow man and continued working for him like nothing happened. It wasn't until about three or so months ago, that an enormous heist was being planned, a bank robbery; loot at the end would leave all of the thieves rich…you'd know…hey Pink?"

The thin man gave him a sideways glance.

"My father learned that the bank robbery was about to take place; and the cops knew the time and location. We arrived on the day to give these guys warning, they raved that their plan was flawless, and that there was no set-up, only one of the robbers believed us; making a fuss about how our claim might be accurate. That worried, little anxious man, was Pink. I bet now that all of those men wished that they had believed us from the beginning, because officers poured out of buildings that were across the road, next door to the bank, bastards were left right and centre. Dad and I made a dash for the car, Pink was right on our heels; climbing in the back and escaping with us, we took him back to the house until it was safe for him to leave"

"Whoa wait, how does this all relate to Diamond Heist though, and the guys that came after you, I don't get it?" Larry sat with a lost expression on his face; Paul understood why it didn't make sense to them both, it was pretty far-fetched.

"My dad's boss Long Beach Mike, he had a partnership, if that's what you want to call it, with Joe. I'm saying this guy set you up, he is the one who would have been responsible for getting Orange on the inside. Cabot, he would have been sold out"

Everyone sat in silence once again, taking in what Paul was saying to them. It was Pink who spoke up now.

"Ok, I understand, but what happened after that, where's your dad? Why did you have a car full of gangsters hunting you down on a busy street in the middle of the night?"

A lump in his throat formed, _haven't I told you both enough already?_

"He- he um..." he swallowed hard "He was killed by 'boss'. The cops showed Long Beach surveillance from the bank robbery, and he identified our car as being at the scene. Once it was figured out that we were warning guys that Mike was trying to set up them up, he killed Dad, and scared me into silence, told me if I ever got involved in anything to do with him and his business again that he would kill me too"

"I get it now…those guys who were after you were working for this 'Long Beach Mike' asshole. He set up Joe, got Orange in on the operation as an undercover, Mike would have been relying on the cops to catch all of the thieves after the heist, but when we escaped he would have worried that we might find out he grassed our boss. To add to the situation further, we show up at your house, which then put you in danger. The history that you have with the man would have made him believe that you were calling him out as the bad guy, telling us all about him and how he two-times his connections; if that kind of information were to spread, he would be a dead man, other gang leaders would hunt him down. He goes with the threat that he made earlier, sends a few of his guys to your house to kill you"

White had a shocked expression on his face, as though he couldn't quite comprehend the words coming out of his mouth, the whole thing seeming too elaborate. Pink kept his eyes closed for a moment as he sat in the corner.

"So what do we do then? Does this mean that 'Long Beach Mike' is after all of us now?"

"I'd say so Robert"

The words came out simply, because it was true, they were not only running from the cops, they were running from the man who had destroyed a perfect job, and caused the death of old friends.

"Well it's too late to hand ourselves in now! Fuck! I knew robbing that diamond store was no good from the beginning!"

Pink began to throw thing around, causing Paul to flinch, they were in real trouble, but it wasn't the time to fall apart. They needed to come together now, to band and make some kind of escape, or a plan to fix the hole that they had found themselves in.

"Do you know where this 'Long Beach Mike' is, Paul?"

White asked the question as if he were already formulating some kind of frenzied attack.

"If he hasn't already booked a plane ticket and flown to the other side of the country; yeah, I do know where that bastard is."


	16. Chapter 16

**I cannot apologise enough to everyone out there following and reading this story (especially VirendraLione whom I promised a chapter to last weekend and didn't update) I have had the worst computer problems all this week but am glad to be writing again! Please forgive me everyone! I hope you enjoy this chapter…**

* * *

He pushed his way through the commotion of worried neighbours and police officers that had gathered on the road outside of Paul's house, keeping Walsh only a step behind. The ground was wet still, from the bout of rain that had hit earlier that morning, and whatever evidence may have been found towards the front of the house was most likely lost; pressed into the soft dirt by heavy work boots and tires of police vans that had been brought up out of the gutters onto the lawn.

As they reached the front door of the house he watched Tegan undo the strap of her heels, banging the shoes on the porch railing, before slipping her dainty feet into a set of police boots that were procedure for all officers entering the crime scene. He too was in the process of pulling them onto his feet when the screen door flung open, Walsh stepping inside without him, eager to find something that they had missed earlier.

The state of the home inside was nothing that Holdaway hadn't seen before, smashed glass, blood. It was common for a mess like that to be found every now and then; but this felt different, he needed to close this case, for Freddy, so that he could go home and not have to worry that his friend might be in danger. Lawrence Dimmick, he would kill Newendyke as soon as he left the hospital doors, and that was something that he wasn't going to let happen.

"You alright sir?"

The young officer stared at him with worry, and it was only then he realised that he was squatted against the wall of the house with his head in his hands. _Jesus Christ I need some sleep_.

"At ease Pine" he said with a chuckled "I'm fine, just really fucking tired…"

Justin Pine, the newbie nodded nervously before descending the stairs, making his way towards a van slowly, turning every few steps and making awkward eye contact. He was a strange kid, but funny when he wasn't on the job; he remembered running into him around a month ago at a bar, the boy was all talk, something that much of the office at work was not used too.

The glass crunched beneath her feet, as she was lead through the main room. The bullet holes in the timber walls made her feel almost sorry for the kid, she really hoped in a way that he was alright. She approached the kitchen, a small notch of the wooden benchtop missing was the first thing that caught her eye, hacked away by what she would have guessed was a knife.

"Did you examine this?"

She looked closer, red smeared fingerprints ran down the side of the dark coloured cabinet, only visible with closer inspection.

"Yes Ms. Walsh, Holdaway noticed that earlier and had us compare the nick in the wood with the household knives. It matched this one, we found it on the lawn in the backyard"

Blood covered the knife that was handed to her in an evidence bag.

"Whose blood, do you know?"

"We haven't been able to find any match for the blood, but we don't believe it's the boys"

"Why not"

"Whoever attacked this house, wouldn't have needed a knife. They had guns, Paul would have made his attack with the knife, and we think that he left the house injured but not severely. There was traces of his blood on a few of the shards of glass but that was it, and judging by the carnage on the main road a few blocks over, he made a pretty damn good escape, I don't think he would have made it that far if he had been shot"

"How do you know he didn't escape from the attacker's car, maybe he didn't run all that way?"

"Because neighbours reported him jumping fences and passing through their yards late last night after being woken by gunfire"

Nodding she moved to where she had a view of the back fence from the kitchen window. The fence surrounding the house was tall.

"He must be agile, to get over that fence…"

"Like I said, his get-away was an impressive one"

She realised that Holdaway hadn't had an input yet, before turning and realising that he was nowhere in sight. She thanked the four officers for letting her come through and view the scene before making her way to the front yard, where her boss was standing, drinking a cup of coffee and speaking with an elderly woman, who was pointing her hand furiously in various directions.

"Margaret this is Tegan Walsh, she interviewed Paul a few days ago"

The old woman shook her head, tears visibly building.

"He is such a lovely young man, you will find him won't you? When my husband died last year, he used to bake the most beautiful raisin cookies and come and have morning tea on my front porch. I can't even bear the thought of someone doing such dreadful things to him, he really is so kind…"

Holdaway sent her a sideways glance, as if unsure about just how much this little old lady knew.

"I never did like his father though…"

"And why is that Margaret?" She felt herself saying, immediately interested by the elaboration.

"It's not that he wasn't a kind man, he was. I just didn't quite like the look of the company that he kept. Lance was a doctor, a fine doctor too, but the men that used to visit that house of theirs didn't look at all like they could be trusted. I never saw normal-looking visitors after Pauls mother Rita passed away a few years ago. Every single person that has entered that premises was dressed in a suit and I may be an old woman but I know what a gang looks like, and Lance was involved with one"

She had her face furrowed now into a scowl, one of distaste.

"If they have hurt that boy, my god I hope you make them pay for it"

They both turned to each other now, neither of them had even put the slightest bit of thought into Paul's father.

"Thank you so much Mrs. Pastor" Holdaway said, jotting something into a notepad "We will keep you updated, and make sure you know if we find him"

She waved her hand at the two of them and smiled before turning and walking towards the neighbouring house, at an extremely slow pace.

"I think it's time for you to look into Paul's father a little further, don't you think? And I'd appreciate you going over those tapes from the bugged camera's we set in the house, and telling me if the crew inside were right about how it all went down, or if there's anything that was missed"

"Will do, Holdaway"

* * *

He held Paul tightly against his chest. _Can't we take a fucking break? _The kid gripped his arm firmly -as White tipped the alcohol onto the rag once more - preparing himself for the pain that he knew was going to follow. He felt himself grimace as the cloth was applied to the wound, the body in his lap tensing and kicking out innocently, this kind of pain must have been new to him.

"Hey it's almost over, Larry's almost done, then it's just bandages and you can go to sleep"

He wasn't much of a comforter, he never had been, but he tried to be. He was a good kid, he didn't need his entire life to be blown away by a couple of robbers and their injured friend. That's exactly what they had done, uprooted everything, all of the normalcy that he had achieved since his father had died was gone. Now what were they going to do? Go after a fucking crime boss and try take him down? What was it going to achieve? They would all be better packing up and leaving… at least that was his opinion_, I can't do fucking jail. _

Paul writhed again as the cloth came down on the open wound. It was surprisingly deep, he would have never had thought it was that bad. He tightened his grip as the kid threw his head back into his shoulder, sobbing slightly.

"It's clean Robert, pass me a dressing"

He looked over his shoulder and moved his hand through the contents of the metal aid kit before finding what he was looking for.

"He'll be ok, won't he Larry?"

"He will be fine after he gets some sleep"

Pink nodded to himself before roughly running his hands over Paul's chest, the kid's jacket and under-shirt soaked through with sweat.

"Did you hear that, you'll be fine tomorrow"


	17. Chapter 17

**I tried to make this chapter longer but it didn't really work... hope you guys enjoy it anyways, and please... reviews are much appreciated!**

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She sat in the still dark room and looked over the footage from Paul's house. She watched the boy stand from his chair before looking directly at the camera that, at the time was concealed inside a large clock. It was in that moment that his face changed, he knew it was no normal visitor, judging by time, and in an instant he was running backwards and falling into shards of glass created by the aggressor's guns. Again Tegan felt herself cringe at the moment of the recording in which the knife was used by Paul and pushed straight through the leg of the man who seemed to be in charge of the raid. He was used to violence, and he knew these men; the elderly neighbour was right.

Suddenly the door opened and light poured in from all directions. Her superior stood there holding a paper bag in one arm, re-closing the door with the other.

"I got you a taco, did you find anything interesting?"

"There's nothing on these tapes apart from the fact that Paul was definitely the one who used the knife, watch this…"

The video replayed once more and even Holdaway cringed.

"Jesus Christ, I guess that means we're not dealing with your average breaking and entering. Nobody would have the guts to put a knife through a strangers leg, especially not if that stranger was holding a gun to their head"

"So what do we do now sir?"

"We find this kid, because he knows where Dimmick and Pink are, I'm positive that he does"

They both nodded in silent agreement, as she flicked the screen off and sat back lazily in her chair.

"Where do we start?"

"We need to start at the hospital…Freddy gets out in two hours"

She felt her heart stop for a minute before she rose and stood to face to face with Holdaway.

"How can he be let out this early, he couldn't even sit up last time I saw him?"

"Apparently 'special care' has been organised"

"That's bullshit!"

"I know its bullshit ok, but be calm. He needs to move around, you know him and how he is, there's no way he was going to stay in a bed for longer than two weeks"

"You know why he wants to get out though don't you, he wants to help on this case and I don't think it will do him any good"

"He wants to be put back on but I've already told him I won't risk his health, he understands, Walsh, he just wants to go home"

* * *

Blisters were beginning to form on his palm due to the pressure and weight he was placing on the cane, _four more steps man, and then you're at the top…_

"Do you need a hand Freddy?" Tegan spoke calmly behind him.

"I'm fine, I just realised I don't have the keys."

"I do" Holdaway called from the level below.

He pressed down on the walking stick again, making it to the third floor had used what energy he had, now all he wanted was to sit down. Home was behind the door that stood in front of him, the familiar smell of cigarettes and a fridge full of beer, his couch, and his comics. The door lock clicked as the key was turned.

"Home sweet home Freddy, now get your ass inside"

He smiled as his two companions moved to the side, allowing him to enter first. _Home sweet-what the hell…_

"I did a little cleaning up before you got out…I know that you don't appreciate the fact that the carpet and floors have been cleaned for the first time in four years, but I couldn't leave it in the state it was in"

_Unbelievable…_

"Hey, I cleaned the carpets about six months ago, and I liked the fact that my apartment smelt like shit, that's why I wanted to come home to it"

Tegan sighed as Holdaway chuckled lightly in the background - "I told you not to worry about cleaning it Walsh"

"I'm guessing you got rid of all my alcohol and stashed smokes too"

He turned to her now, a smile on her face.

"McKlusky and I took care of that, we had a movie night"

Freddy shook his head, before moving towards the couch and seating himself on the soft, worn leather.

"Oh well, I'm just going to have to make it filthy again, that can be my personal goal for the next three days"

* * *

"Hey, wake up, you feeling alright?"

He shook Pauls shoulder slightly, the young boy's eyelashes fluttering open into a blank stare at the roof. Robert had woken only minutes earlier, discovering that the car and Larry were both gone, and although he knew that White would never up and leave them behind, there was a nagging question of where he had gone playing over in the back of his mind.

"You still feeling light headed?"

Paul rushed to sit up, seemingly confused and tired, swaying left heavily. He grabbed the kids sleeve and steadied him, before lying him back down on the bed.

"Whoa there slow it down, you don't need to get up, I just wanted to know if White told you where he was going, the cars gone."

The answer he received was raised eyebrows, followed by a deep sigh.

"He – He said that he was going to pick up some fresh shit from the store"

_Thank god…normally when he doesn't tell me what he's doing, it's because he knows I won't agree with whatever whacked out plan he's created. _

"Thanks kid now go back to sleep, I'll wake you up for breakfast when Larry gets back"

He tapped Paul on the shoulder as he rolled to the side, cocooning himself in a thick blanket. Standing to leave the room Robert reached for his watch that he had left on the table beside the bed, he had taken it off when helping Larry to suture and wrap the young mans wounded leg the night before. As he clipped the watch it caught his skin, pinching a small cut on the surface of his wrist that drew blood. _God damn this fucking watch, always fucking does this…_

As he went to pull the silver clasp away the door in the room over flung open. He pushed himself against the closest wall, holding his breath, the hairs standing on the back of his neck. Paul stirred also, alarmed by the sudden loud thud. He lifted a finger to his mouth quickly, signalling for the kid to be quiet as loud footsteps echoed in the kitchen.

'Pink, where's your gun?' The young boy mouthed in panic, and it was only then that he realised it was on the table in the other room. _Fuck! _ 'I don't have it!'

"And he huffed and puffed…"

The unfamiliar voice rang in his ears, a million thoughts racing through his head in time with his heartbeat, this was not police and this was not Larry. He held his eyes shut firmly, pressing the back of his head against the brick wall in shock.

"And he blew their fucking door in…"

He felt himself shout Paul's name, before a force collided with the back of his skull knocking him to the ground.

* * *

He couldn't escape the grip of the man above him, clawing at the assailants eyes with all of the force that he could muster. He was on the verge of blacking out, the hard grasp on his throat preventing him from drawing any breath; anger made him want to continue thrashing in an attempt to harm the man who would undoubtedly be leading him to his death, but they were both outnumbered three to one. Pink was down, sprawled across the floor in the corner of the room having his hands tied behind his back, and it was now that Paul knew he needed to give it up, black spots dotted his vision as the side lamp was brought down, making rigid contact with his face.

"Tie his fucking hands up, don't let the little bastard escape again"

A voice from the other side of the room directed two men towards the door - the both of them pulling a lifeless Pink from the ground and dragging him into the kitchen. He could feel the blood trickling down the side of his face as thick ropes were bound around his ankles and wrists; he couldn't move, not even if he wanted to.

"Pick him up and get him out to the car"

The toe of a boot came into contact with his side, causing him to curl inwards, before he was lifted over a large man's shoulder. Hair hung in his eyes and stuck to the sweat on his brow, his head swaying side to side uncontrollably with the pace of his haulers steps. The floor was underneath him, kitchen tiles, Pinks unmistakeable custom made shoes.

"Hey boss who's this guy"

A young attacker looked towards an older taller man for answers now, waving his gun in the direction of Robert who was face down on the floor, breathing heavily.

"I don't know, but we don't need him"

As he was carried down the stairs a single shot rang throughout the building, his heart stopped…_Pink. _


	18. Chapter 18

**I am warning prior to your reading of this chapter that it may get extremely sad towards the end...I am sorry! **

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"YOU BASTARDS! NO!"

The room above him fell silent as the man that carried him descended the stairs. _Pink…this isn't happening, I'm still dreaming, I'm asleep still. _He closed his eyes tightly wanting the nightmare to end, there was no possible way that Pink was dead, because he was just there, moments ago stirring him from sleep and asking about Larry. He opened his eyes again, but he hadn't woken…he was still bound at the wrists and ankles being hauled away for torture, information…whatever these men wanted to use him for.

Footsteps sounded heavily on the stairs behind him. He lifted his head to meet the gaze of the man following, small drops of blood visible on his cuffs as he readjusted them, before tucking his gun away.

"I swear to god if you did anything to him I'll fucking kill you! I'll kill you all!"

A discordant laughter resonated throughout the group of men, filling the lobby with the sickening sound. They weren't scared, they weren't even the slightest bit concerned by the threats he was making, why would they be? He was young, vulnerable and weak. He sobbed at the thought of Pink, hoping that he was ok, but knowing that he wasn't. I can't lose Robert too...

* * *

The thick liquid rose from his lungs, preventing him from inhaling through his nose, as he gasped for air. He couldn't move, he couldn't see, but he could feel the blood pooling around his torso. Every movement made him want to scream in pain, every contraction or tensing of muscles making him want to kick out. But there was no noise, he had no breath to give, and no life to give to movement. A slow but growing weight pressed on his wound now, causing him to involuntarily throw his head into the tile floor. The man above him laughed sickly before a second loud thundering sound shook the floor and caused his entire body to twist in a contorted manner.

"Two is enough, come on move it, we need to get Mr. Torisi back to boss"

"Come on Greg, one more time"

A heavy boot pressed hard on his shoulder.

"Stop...stop..."

He spoke up now to the man holding the weapon above him, ignoring the shattering pain, determined to give last words to those who were moments away from taking his life.

"The b-boy you just took...tell him I'm alright, and that he's - he's a good kid"

The click of the revolver rang loudly in his ears along with the sound of a poisonous snigger, as he held his breath in fright and agony, _this is it._

* * *

He was lowered from shoulder height and held by the bindings at his hands, as a small man fiddled with various keys on a keychain, looking for the one that fit the trunk. A third shot sounded over the buildings area, and he closed his eyes tightly, his breathing erratic.

"You're all going to pay for this! You fucking bastards! Fuck you all, fuck y-"

The gag was stuffed between his teeth, making him choke on the awkward positioning of his tongue. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he was lifted and packed into the boot of the car, the last two men now exiting the building and making their way towards the second vehicle, their business was done. The heavy metal door slammed above him, leaving him in darkness.

* * *

The car hummed along the busy street, conspicuous in every way. Bullet holes littered the panelling, the glass in the windows was smashed and shattered, or missing completely; and yet, there was something about driving this vehicle that made him feel safer than driving a car that was whole. Why? _Because only an idiot that was wanted nationally would be seen in a piece of junk as battered as this_…

He flicked on his indicator, turning down the one-way street leading to the rundown apartments that he called home; the groceries he had purchased rolling off the back seat onto the floor. _Damn it, I knew I should have put them in the trunk. _He turned to see the damage before a loud blaring horn startled him, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. Turning his attention back to the road ahead he swerved to avoid the cars coming his way, veering onto the dirt and braking hard. The two black Fleetwood Cadillac's accelerated, throwing dust in the air as they passed. He took a moment, coughing from the dirt that was inhaled before looking in his rear-view mirror, the hairs on the back of his neck standing, as he noticed both vehicles were packed with more than four men. A sick feeling washed over him, _get back to the others._

There was a stillness in the air as he climbed from the car and made his way towards the lobby doors, pushing them open. His footsteps echoed throughout the empty room making his nerves stand on edge, as he waited for Pink to come down stairs at a rapid pace above him, shouting, or swearing, demanding to know where and why he had left. He stood still, but there was no movement, no sound. The unnatural emotion of fear came over him, as he slowly scaled every step in complete silence, his gun drawn and held by his side.

On approaching his apartment, he leant against the wall and inhaled deeply, taking note of the blood smeared on the handle. _Please god, no…_

With one finger wrapped around the timber door he pulled it towards himself, placing his left foot inside the dark room. He couldn't see what laid in front of his feet, the curtains drawn closed.

"Paul?"

There was no answer, as he took another blind step onward in the sickening silence, making his way towards a lamp situated on a small wooden table. In lifting his foot it caught on something unknown in the blackness, triggering his body to fall forwards, hands making contact with the wet tiles. A warm liquid smeared over his bare skin as he reached for the light; it flickered on, revealing red splatters on the lampshade and wall. He gulped cuttingly, throat tightening as he turned to face the thin body behind him, bound, and tarnished by the crimson that pooled and soaked through layers of clothing.

"Pink!"

He jumped at his dying friend lifting him off the cold floor, pulling him closer to the warmth that his own body would provide.

"Pink?"

He ran a hand over the front of his torso, searching for the extent of his wounds but found nothing, before relaxing the limp figure against his own chest, his attention now on the ropes holding Roberts's arms forcefully behind his back. Larry picked at the knots, his arms shaking cripplingly as he attempted to free his companion.

"You lay here like this, everything's gonna be fine…"

A rasped pant sounded, as he pulled the ties away from the cold pair of frail hands, Pink's fingers curling inwards weakly.

"You're going to be ok. Pink?" He shook the man's shoulder harshly, struggling to wake him "Pink…? Robert, hey…look at me"

A set of blue eyes emerged from beneath thick eyelashes, in a gaze that was distant and unsettled. _Please stay awake, please…please. _

"Robert please"

Pink lifted his right arm now above White's shoulder supportively, pressing his face into Larry's chest with wanted comfort. He could feel the soft touch of cold fingertips running over the back of his neck, his friends breathing dwindling with every stroke as he became less alert. He pulled him closer into a tight embrace, as Robert panted hesitantly for air; body tensing and writhing in a last fight for life, until the bout of strength ended.

He slumped in his arms, the hand around Larry's neck falling still. A stream of tears ran down his face as he arched over the body in his lap, moaning overwhelmingly, gripping the loosely fit clothing of his lifeless companion.

_Why…_


	19. Chapter 19

**Thankyou to everyone still following this story! You guys are great! Please leave a review if you have the time, I'll be sure to update the next chapter faster than this!**

* * *

His face came into contact with the concrete, the bindings around his wrists inhibiting movement as the men standing over him closed the boot of the car. A shoe was pressed into his side, as he was rolled onto his back, the bright warehouse lights above making it near impossible to see anything. Silhouettes spoke to one-another calmly, the smell of smoke in the air causing him to cough hastily.

"How you doin' kid? Long car ride huh, I'm sorry I had to shove you in the boot, you could have ridden with us up front but you were squirmin' too much…wouldn't want the cops to pull us over"

The man leant in close, ashing his cigarette over Pauls face causing him to frown. He'd recognise this guy anywhere…

"Nice to see you too Greg, last time we met you had a baseball bat, you're not really that scary without it"

"Still have a fire in your belly I see, just like your old man, hey? But it's not always a good thing I guess, gets you killed in this job"

_Gregory Marino, the slimy no good Italian snake… _that was the only way to describe him. Cold, calculating, relentless; Paul had already enjoyed the pleasure of his company, although it seemed like longer than three months ago.

"You're a good looking guy Torisi…I didn't really take pleasure in breaking your face, you know that time your 'Pa' ruined what we had going on with that bank robbery…it was a shame, you would have made a good little thief."

"I wouldn't have worked for you cocksuckers anyway…"

The man above him inhaled deeply before scrunching his brow into a tight frown, turning towards the other members of his gang; null and void of all emotion as he fixed his cuffs.

"I have told this little fucker so many times to watch his language and he just can't help himself"

An uncontrollable amount of anger built inside him, a churning feeling in his stomach that made him want to cut the man's throat from ear to ear. Greg stood unconcernedly, responsive but completely undaunted by the fact that he had just murdered a man that didn't deserve to die, a fellow criminal…_Pink._ It was then a crash of metal on metal shook the ground that he was laid upon, heavy steps closing the distance between himself, and the only man that Paul feared in the room.

"I told you boy…not to meddle with things you didn't know nothing about, and what do you do? Answer me…what did you do wrong?"

Inhaling sharply he could feel the cold stare of Michael Firenze 'Long Beach Mike' watching him, waiting wordlessly for an answer in the now still warehouse. There was the light shuffle of a nervous pair of feet, before the room fell stagnant of all emotion again; one of the gangs members anxious about the events that were to follow his answer to the question. Paul was terrified, teeth chattering together in a movement that he was certain nobody could see, but almost everyone could hear.

"I didn't know it had anything to do with you…"

"Well it did…and now I have a big problem. The issue is, that I just sold out a major crime boss, valued by his very, very many loyal employees and the one thing that needed to happen was for all involved in that heist to be either gunned down or locked up. Now I'm sure you knew who they were as soon as they showed up at your door… you knew one of them already, remember? From the last time you fucked up one of my major operations!"

He stared blankly before turning away, there was no laughter from the men standing above him as there had been earlier. They were like dogs, waiting for the signal of their master; permission to tear Paul limb from limb.

"I can't deal with this shit today boys, I'm headed to Santa Barbara on important business. Find somewhere to lock him up for the night, keep eyes on him until I get back"

A murmur could be heard from those given the task, as six pairs of feet followed Mike from the room.

"Where are going to lock him? There's nowhere here…"

He found himself looking with them, scanning the room for an appropriate cell of containment but found nothing. The warehouse walls stretched onwards, items upon items lining shelves, car trailers parked closely to the left. _Where were they?_

"Where the hell are we?" – he asked shakily as he pulled at his bindings.

"A storage building for a camping shop"

_Why would boss choose a camp-_

"Hey, hey look over there what's that?"

A taller well-built gang member that he had failed to notice earlier waved a hand now in the direction of a wall lined with various shaped and sized grills, all three men following around the corner, behind a set of shelves out of sight. A ricochet of chatter reached his ears as he pressed his face into the concrete…White would have arrived back to the apartment by now, he would have found Pink. There was deep distressing feeling in the pit of his stomach, Robert was dead, after three shots he had to be. He felt his own face contort, tears forming as the hurried footsteps returned.

"Oh boy do we have an interesting bed for you, boy"

He inhaled deeply, trying his hardest to push the emotion away as a forceful hand grabbed his shoulder and hoisted him from the ground.

"You are going to like this …"

Lifting his feet as he walked was near impossible, all of his strength drained earlier in a desperate and failed attempt to reach his dying friend, as he was dragged from the set of apartments. He was pushed roughly forward by a set of hands, the hit driving into the side of a stomach that was already littered with discoloured patches of skin. Two men grabbed him by the elbows now, as he looked forward to where a large grill revealed itself from the shadows. A fear came over him now, tight locked, small enclosed space.

"You can't put me in there…"

"Why it's just a pig smoker, perfect for swine like you"

He pressed his heels into the ground firmly as he was dragged along the concrete, in an attempt to slow down or stops his challengers' success.

"Please stop! No I can't be in there, not until tomorrow!"

He kicked out as he was lifted from the ground and tossed onto the grate, the clattering of metal amplified by the half –cylinder cover that would seal him inside.

"Please, anything but this, re-tie my legs and leave me on the floor overnight, I don't care, anything but lock me in here."

The men all gave him a false look of sympathy, before one of them grasped the cookers handle.

"What's wrong? You a little bit claustrophobic? We did choose the biggest grill, I mean look at that one" – He pointed away now to a smaller contraption held by four thin metal legs. "We could have left you in there…Boys show Paul how small the inside of that one is"

There was a loud creak as the lid of the little barbeque eased open slowly.

"You know what boys, I reckon if you took out that metal splitter that holds up the pig, we could fit Mr. Torisi in there…lay him down where the coals are supposed to go, he's complaining about the one we have him in now"

His heart jumped in panic, as the man above him grinned callously.

"Wait! Wait, I like this one…this is good ok, its good"

"No I insist…"

The metal was beginning to warm now, the grills positioning in the direct light of the afternoon sun, _I should have just fucking shut up…_

Sweat covered his entire body, and a dull aching pain in his head made him want to be able to just sleep, but how could he? The events of the day replayed in his mind. How did they find us so fast? He expected Long beach Mike to be looking for him and hunting him down, but with less proficiency; L.A was a big place, Larry and Robert could have been anywhere...instead they were traced to their exact location, there was no possible way that they had done it on their own. His thoughts were interrupted by a loud rattling bang on the outside of the stove.

"You need water in there?"

He gave a sigh that was one of both relief and worry as the lid of the cooker was opened, a man of thinner build standing over him now. His hands were lifted, a small water bottle placed underneath.

"Can you get that open?"

Paul nodded in reply, the man simply raising an eyebrow at his confidence.

"You sure?"

"Yeah I'm sure…"

He waited for the heavy metal cover to be closed, encasing him in blackness again; instead, however, the man lingered.

"I was left here to watch you by myself, can you believe that? The other two guys went home. Now I feel bad leaving you in here overnight, because I'm claustrophobic myself, so I'll make you a deal. I'll let you out, and untie you – don't try anything stupid though once I take off the ropes, because I'll fucking shoot. Once you're out you can have dinner, I ordered Chinese…don't really believe in letting a man die on an empty stomach, because I'm sure you were aware that's what's happening tomorrow when Mike gets back"

He raised his eyebrows as the man continued, shocked by the sudden pleasantness of his enemy.

"One once condition…"

"What's the condition?"

"In the morning you get back in this cooker, without trying to fight me off and be a hero, and let me re-tie you before the others show up. Because if you don't it won't be just your neck, it'll be mine as well."

He thought over the conditions, but the decision wasn't a very hard one. Between the choices of small, tiny compact cooker with no food and only a small bottle of water; and Chinese food, untied hands and company for the night, the latter was unquestionably the more comfortable.

"Yeah man you have a deal, just get me the fuck out of here"

"You'll get back in tomorrow?"

"You have my word, just, please let me out…"

The man looked into his eyes for the truth in his statement, seemingly satisfied that Paul wasn't lying, before pulling at the ropes. As the bindings around his feet came loose he stretched out his legs that had been doubled over and compacted inside the tiny stove.

"It must be pretty hot in there, I told them to help move you out of the sun so that you wouldn't get heatstroke but the other blokes don't care"

"So why do you?"

The question was too persistent as he played it over in his mind, but he wanted to know why this man was helping him, if he were caught he would be strung up.

"I just mean, why take that risk?"

"Why take the risk? Because you're just a kid, I have boys at home a few years younger and I would feel sick knowing that they died left in a metal cooker, from dehydration. No person should have to die that way, but definitely not someone so young…"

He couldn't hold back a small smile as his hands pulled free as well, laying still for a moment in relief.

"Thankyou…"

"No worries, now get out and pull up a chair, they're over by the tents"

As he climbed from the cooker he ran his hands over his wrists, soothing the rope burns, before making his way towards the camping seats; dragging one over to where the man who released him had set up for the night, the dull sound of a radio playing in the background. He threw himself down into the chair before gasping, remembering only after he had injured them again, the bruises that lined his chest and torso.

"You look like you need some ice on that, your face looks like shit too"

"Thanks for the uplifting words…"

"No worries kid, honesty is the best thing sometimes ain't it?"

It felt surreal, having a conversation that was so civil, with a man that was working for Long Beach; earlier in the day he would have never even considered sitting and talking as he was now.

"What's your name? If you're willing to share it I mean…"

The man looked at him for a moment, before taking a sip from his water bottle.

"I don't normally like to tell people my name in this job, but I figure that it's not going to really matter that you know it after tomorrow…"

He extended a hand now, leaning forward.

"My name's Anthony, but just call me Tony"

* * *

The telephone rang out once again, Freddy doing his best to ignore the calls of his colleagues from the office, trying to milk him of evidence but giving him no news on White and Pink in return. The ringing buzz began to sound again, the incessant whirring making him want to pull the cord from the wall, _bastards won't get any information from me, they don't need my help so they're not going to get it._

He leant back in his chair, sifting through the various highlighted pages of his notebook, reading the daily entries he made leading up to the heist. Each and every account involving Larry; they were in each other's pocket for the entirety of the job, and it made him sick to think that he would most likely never get a proper chance to speak with the man and apologise. He should have told him he was a cop, but if he had, he would have been dead, there was no way that they were coming out of the whole ordeal as 'pals'. He sipped at his cup of water again, before prying open the hardened pages that were dried together with his blood.

The door rattled suddenly, the knocking making him to force the book into his pocket.

"Freddy let me in"

Tegan's voice projected from the hallway outside, as he stood and made his way to unlock the nine different latches bolting him inside; a touch that Holdaway had added to 'keep him safe from intruders'. As he pulled the pin in the last deadbolt, she pushed her way inside, bags hanging from her arms with assortments of vegetables and healthy 'recovery foods'. He scoured the contents briefly before shivering at the sight of Brussel sprouts and asparagus, _this woman's going to fucking kill me…_

"Thanks Tegan, how's the case going at the moment, you look a little rattled"

"I am, we have made no progress at all in finding Dimmick or Pink, they've literally vanished…so has Paul"

He raised his eyebrows, feeling a little frustrated for her.

"I could help you know…I don't mean field work, I just mean documents, looking over evidence. I feel useless knowing there is shit that I could be doing, instead of sitting around and eating all day"

She stared at him with a look that could have meant many different things, before shaking her head; golden strands of hair falling in her eyes.

"God damn it Freddy, no. That was the deal of you being released, you could come home but no stress and no work"

"Tegan, I'm more stressed not knowing anything, you and Holdaway completely removing me from what's going on is causing me more harm than good. Evidence files aren't going to fucking kill me, and I might pick up shit that you guys are missing."

She stood now with a hand on her hip, the phone ringing loudly again.

"Please, I want to help, that's the only way I can right now…"

She pressed her face into her hand before making her way to the phone.

"Residence of Freddy Newendyke, Tegan speaking"

Immediately she engaged in conversation, the caller most likely Holdaway. He sat on the couch towards the front of the apartment, situated beside the windows, not really wanting to speak with his boss at this point.

"…no well I was thinking we could get some evidence brought over for him though, he's bored out of his mind…no not an enormous amount, just enough to keep him busy… you know we need his help."

He stared in her direction now, a mix of disbelief and gratitude, _finally she got my point._

"I'll stop in at the station when I'm done here and drop it to him tomorrow…ok, see you then Jim."

Walsh turned to face him, a smile covering most of her face as she strolled to where he was seated, throwing herself down onto the worn sofa. Leaning towards him she rested her head on his shoulder; Freddy returning the gesture.

"Holdaway really doesn't want you to have those files, he thinks you're too wounded still"

"What do you think?"

She ran her hand over his chest before resting it above the bandaged injury inflicted by Joe Cabot's gun.

"I think, that if I give you these documents you'll probably stay awake for days until you figure it out…but that's the kind of determination we need to solve the puzzle of where Pink and Dimmick are"

They both sat in silence for a moment, the warm embrace being something Freddy missed. Before he had taken up the job the two had been close, but their relationship was strange now, as though she was afraid to touch him, scared to look him in the eyes.

"You know me too well"

"I do, that's why I was thinking, if it's ok with you that I might stay here for a couple of weeks. I can keep you updated on the case then, so long as you don't tell Holdaway, and you can assist me when I need help to go over evidence…"

He held her at arms lengths now, a smile on his face.

"Really?"

"I think it's a good idea don't you?"

"I think it's a fucking great idea"

"Well that's settled then, I'll go home tonight and pack some stuff, get the case files from the office and come over tomorrow…say, midday?"

As she rose from the couch he stood with her, escorting her to the door, a dull ache making it apparent to him that he should have remained seated. The pain faded slowly as he leant on the entrance and watched her pick up her belongings from the table, before she gently strolled past him, giving him a peck on the cheek.

"See you then, look after yourself ok?"

"Ok"

As her heels clicked away down the hall he closed the door, bolting each and every one of the locks that were screwed into the timber. There was a joy radiating from him that he had not felt since weeks leading up to the heist, that's things might just be going his way again.

* * *

The solid pavement jarred his knees as he made hefty steps towards a set of large glass doors, his body could falter at any moment; never before had grief made him feel this weak. Pink made no movement, no flutter of an eyelid, no twitch of a finger; his friends icy skin stunning him each time it made contact with his own. He could hear distant noise drumming in his ears as he continued ahead, pushing his way into the busy, brightly lit hall; the screams of women and the echo of running feet overwhelmed his ears as he fell forwards, lying Robert on the cold hospital tiles.

Choking back tears he tossed his gun, the metal scraping along the floor, coming to a stop after colliding with the base of the hospital visitor desk. He gasped with the pain of the situation, the man's pale form in front of him; shakily he buttoned Pinks sodden shirt before pulling his comb from his own jacket. Attempting to neaten the knotted strands was useless, the lengths of normally tidy hair, dishevelled and infused together with a heavy amount of partially dried blood. He wept at his inability to arrange the loose threads of hair, before stroking the exit wound bordering the thin man's collarbone.

"Pink… I'm fucking sorry, I should have been there"

Down the hall a receptionist screeched for help, an approaching pattering of feet caused him to lift his own hands above his head feebly, chest trembling. The clattering wheels of a metal trolley resounded in the empty white passageway as three paramedics ran to his departed companions' aid, lifting him onto the bed. As Robert's lifeless arm hung outstretched in Whites direction an item fell from between the thin bloodied fingers, creating a loud, and high-pitched sound; rolling towards him leaving a thin crimson trail, _Freddy's ring… _


End file.
